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MARGARE 



THE 

PEARL OF NAVARRE. 


A NARRATIVE COMPILED FROM AUTHENTIC 
SOURCES. 



There is nothing sweeter on earth than the heart of a woman in 
which piety dwells, martin luther. 



C PUBLISHED BY THE 
AMEBIC AN TEACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK. 


V 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by the 
American Tract Society, in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court 
of the United States for the Southern District of New York. 


07-/7?/'/ 


S'- 

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CONTENTS. 


I. The Castle of Amboise page 5 

II. The Marriage of the Princess 24 

III. Francis I. and his Court 38 

IV. The Dawn of Day 48 

Y. The Grace of God in the Palace 59 

VI. Trials of the Infant Reformation 74 

VII. The Defeat and Captivity of Francis 89 

VIII. Margaret of Valois in Spain 101 

IX. Margaret, Queen of Navarre 119 

X. A New Life at Fontainebleau — 134 

XI. The Palace Home 150 

XII. The Young Princess of Navarre 167 

XIII. Life at the Castle of Pau 186 

XIV. “The End of Earth” 203 

XV. Conclusion - 215 




















































































MARGARET, 

THE PEARL OF NAVARRE. 


I. 

JhE J^ASTLE OF y^MBOISE. 

The royal castle of Amboise in France, 
long a favorite residence of the French 
sovereigns, was a noble and kingly abode, 
magnificent alike in its adornings and 
extent. There Blanche of Castile, the 
gentle and pious but ill-used queen of 
Louis XI., spent long years of solitude 
and suffering, cheered only by the soci- 
ety of her young son, afterwards Charles 
VIII., to whose training she devoted her- 


6 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

self with, a zeal that knew no intermis- 
sion. When Charles succeeded his father, 
his recollections of the castle were so far 
from pleasant, that he shunned A mboise 
after the death of his admirable mother, 
and his wife Anne of Bretagne shared the 
dislike of her husband ; so that during 
his short reign, and that of his successor, 
Louis XII., the chateau was compara- 
tively deserted. 

But in 1504 the solitude of Amboise 
was broken by the arrival of a gay and 
brilliant court. It had been selected by 
Louis as the residence of Louisa of Sa- 
voy, Duchess d’Angouleme, and mother 
of the young Francis, who was heir-pre- 
sumptive to the throne of France. A 
bitter rivalry had long existed between 
the queen of Louis, Anne of Bretagne, 
and Madame d’AngoulSme, rendered 
more intense by the fact that the latter 
was mother of a fair son, while she had 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 


7 


given birth only to daughters, who were 
excluded by the salique law from suc- 
ceeding to the throne. Louis, who had 
a kind and feeling heart, and was justly 
styled “the father of his people,” loved 
the princely boy who was to succeed him 
almost with the affection of a father ; but 
he was weary of contention, and to put 
an end to it, requested the countess with 
her two children, Francis d’Angouleme 
and Margaret of Yalois,* to take up her 
abode at Amboise, where a retinue suit- 
able to their rank was provided for them, 

* As a descendant of the royal family of Valois, 
Margaret was known in her girlhood as Margaret 
of Valois. When in her fifteenth year she married 
the Duke d’Alenpon, she took the titles of Madame 
and Duchess d’Alenpon, though still retaining her 
family name. On the accession of Francis to the 
throne, he gave to his sister the title of ‘ ‘ Madame de 
France,” an honor belonging only to those nearest 
of kin to the reigning monarch ; and by her second 
marriage with Henry d’Albret, she became queen of 
Navarre. Hence the various titles by which she is 
designated in this little work. 


8 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

and Pierre de Rohan, Marshal de Gri6, 
appointed tutor to the young prince. 

It was a sultry afternoon in August, 
1505, and the busy hum of life and gay- 
ety that usually filled the saloons and 
corridors of the old chateau was hushed 
in a stillness so profound, that nothing 
was heard but the plash of the fountain 
as it fell into a marble basin in the court- 
yard. Madame d’Angouleme was taking 
her afternoon repose, and most of the 
lords and ladies in waiting had followed 
her example, leaving the young prin- 
cess Margaret free to wander at will in 
the garden of the chateau, laid out in 
the quaint, formal style then prevalent 
throughout France. In company with 
her favorite greyhound, the young girl 
had traversed the pleached walks and 
shaded alleys, till, growing weary, she 
seated herself beneath a spreading syca- 
more, and drawing a book from her 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 9 

pocket, was soon absorbed in its con- 
tents. 

Margaret of Valois, afterwards the 
most beautiful and brilliant woman of. 
her age, was at this time in her four- 
teenth year, tall and finely formed, with 
a pliant grace in every movement, which 
charmed the beholder, and a dignity of 
manner very unusual in one who had 
just emerged from childhood. Her elo- 
quent face was the mirror of her soul. 
Through her perfect features every 
expression of intellect and feeling shone 
so clearly, that “one might almost say 
her body thought.” 

Louisa of Savoy, the mother of the 
young princess, though a woman of splen- 
did endowments, was distinguished far 
more for the immorality of her life than 
for her mental qualities; and as the 
women of her court were chosen by her 

for their talent at intrigue rather than 
2 


10 * MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

their virtue, the atmosphere in which 
the young Margaret had grown up was 
impure and injurious. But God, whose 
chosen instrument she was, had purposes 
of mercy towards her, and through his 
grace she had escaped the moral conta- 
gion, and had grown up in the midst of 
a corrupt court pure and spotless as a 
lily among thorns. Passionately fond 
of reading and study, her love of books 
had been to her a safeguard ; while her 
progress in knowledge was such, that 
she soon outstripped all her young com- 
panions, even in those severer branches 
which are usually regarded as beyond 
the pale of female acquirement. Wise 
as the wisest, wittier than the wittiest, 
Margaret, by the force of her intellect 
and the fascination of her manner, made 
her way among the strange and discord- 
ant elements of which the court of Louis 
and that of her mother were composed, 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 11 

without stooping from her lofty height 
or sharing in the general corruption. 

The princess was still bending over 
her book, when suddenly a sound was 
heard, and with a glad cry the grey- 
hound bounded from her side. Raising 
her head, she threw back the clustering 
ringlets that shaded her brow, and a 
bright smile broke over her face as a 
boy somewhat younger than herself came 
running towards her, exclaiming : 

“I was sure of finding you here, 
mignonne , [darling,] even if Fido had 
not come to meet me. But where have 
you been hiding all day, and what has 
occupied you ?” 

It needed not the look of fondness 
with which Margaret greeted the new- 
comer, to tell the beholder that it was 
her brother who stood beside her. The 
wonderful likeness between those young 
faces could not be mistaken. Both had 


12 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

the same dark gray eyes, full of liquid 
light ; the same oval face and high fore- 
head, crowned with a profusion of chest- 
nut- brown, wavy hair; the same full 
red lips, round which a smile was always 
playing ; and the same eagle glance, 
softened in the sister by an expression 
of feminine sweetness. 

Motioning Francis to a seat by her 
side, she said gayly : 

“I have been busy enough through 
the day, I assure you, though now I may 
seem idle. Father Francis was with me 
in the morning, explaining the mysteries 
of Plato and Aristotle ; then Madame 
de Yilleret drove me almost distracted 
with tent-stitch and cross-stitch; after 
which I had a charming gallop on my 
Barbary jennet; then dinner, and the 
most delightful of all, liberty! But you, 
mon ami , [my friend,] what have you 
been doing ?” 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 13 

The boy suppressed a yawn as he 
replied : 

“ Oh, the same old story. M. de Grie 
tries hard to make me studious and 
learned ; but the task is beyond him, as 
he will find to his cost. What a pity 
7 tis, mignonne , that you were not Fran- 
cis and I Margaret. You would learn 
every thing and know how to manage 
every body ; while my little bark would 
glide merrily over the waters, courting 
the summer breezes, and gathering only 
the sweets, without the bitter of life . 77 

“For shame, brother ,’ 7 replied the 
princess; “ if any other had dared thus 
to speak of Francis d’Angouleme, I 
should be seriously angry . 77 

“It is true, nevertheless, sweet sis- 
ter. I had rather be out with hawk and 
hound than to understand all the scien- 
ces, and love better the society of my 
mother’s ladies than the wisest of the 


14 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

old Greeks and Romans. But this is 
not what I came to say. I have ti- 
dings for you. What think you they 
are ? 77 

“Indeed I cannot guess. Be gener- 
ous, and bestow them upon me.” 

“Well, then, you must know that I 
heard M. de Gie announce to Madame 
that the Court now at Blois, purposes to 
come to Amboise before returning to 
Paris. Judging from the countenance 
of her highness, the news was not as 
welcome to her as to me.” 

“Comes the queen to the chateau ?’ 7 
inquired Marguerite. 

“Assuredly, with her two hundred 
Breton guards, and scores of ladies in 
waiting . 77 

Margaret’s brow clouded. 

“ I fear , 77 she said in a low tone, “for 
the consequences of this meeting. There 
is no love between Anne of Bretagne 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 15 

and our mother, who will look upon 
this pompous display as a studied in- 
sult / 7 

“It may well be so , 77 the boy said 
thoughtfully ; “but when the king and 
queen of France become the guests of 
Madame d 7 Angouleme, she is incapable 
of forgetting the duties of hospitality. 
So cheer up, mignonne ; we must have 
your very brightest smiles to greet our 
royal cousins when they come . 77 

“Have no fears for me. I owe the 
good king too much for his past kindness 
to fail in my duty to him ; and for the 
honor of our house, we must make Am- 
boise as attractive as possible . 77 

Three days after this conversation, the 
royal cortege arrived at Amboise, and 
were received by the duchess with a 
stately courtesy which diminished the 
anticipated triumph of Queen Anne, and 
compelled her to acknowledge that, as 


16 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

chatelaine in her own castle, the de- 
meanor of her rival was perfect. 

A brilliant suite of noble ladies attend- 
ed the queen, among whom two lovely 
j^oung princesses shone conspicuous 
One was Germaine de Foix, niece of 
the king, and one of the most beautiful 
women in France, who soon afterwards 
became the successor of the celebrated 
Isabella of Castile, by marrying Ferdi- 
nand of Aragon, then a widower. The 
other was Susanne de Bourbon, only 
child and heiress of the Lady of Beau- 
jeu, daughter of Louis XI. In the midst 
of this gay assemblage, Margaret of 
Yalois, young as she was, acted her 
part with a dignity and grace that won 
all hearts, and caused the king to ex- 
claim : 

“That slender girl would grace any 
throne in Europe ; but as for this great 
boy,” playfully pulling one of the long 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 17 

locks of Francis, “ lie will one day spoil 
all.” 

The Marshal de Gi6 had planned a 
series of festivities, according to the taste 
of the day, for the amusement of the 
Court ; but the ill-health of the king ren- 
dered him incapable of enjoying them, 
and the visit passed off quietly, without 
any important results, though the plan 
of a marriage between Francis and thf 
little Claude, still almost an infant, was 
then first talked of by the duchess and 
her royal kinsman. To this, however, 
it was impossible to gain the consent 
of the queen, whose dislike of Madame 
d’Angouleme extended to her children. 
Louis therefore was compelled seemingly 
to relinquish the plan, though at heart 
resolved on carrying it out when the fit- 
ting time should arrive. 

At the period of his visit to Amboise, 
Louis was involved in difficulties with 
3 


Margaret. 


18 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

Pope Julius II., which, had there been 
a Luther then in France, might have 
ended in the separation of that kingdom 
from the see of Pome. The contro- 
versy had been submitted by the king 
to the universities of Paris, who had 
decided in his favor; but in spite of 
this, Queen Anne took sides with the 
pope, and that with such earnestness, 
that Louis became indignant, and ex- 
claimed: 

“Why, my Breton dame, any one 
hearing you condemn so decidedly what 
our most celebrated universities have 
approved, would imagine that you esteem 
yourself wiser and more learned than the 
rest of mankind. Have your confessors 
never told you that women have no voice 
in the church ?” 

The queen was silenced, but not con- 
vinced ; and accustomed to have her own 
way in most things, availed herself of 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 19 

her rights, as sovereign over Brittany, 
to forbid the attendance of the bishops 
of that province at the council convened 
at Pisa with intentions hostile to the 
pope. The health of Louis was rapidly 
failing. His imperious wife knew well 
how to flatter and cajole him into the 
adoption of her own measures, and as 
the truths of the gospel had never been 
received into his heart, he gave way, 
and the papacy was once more triumph- 
ant in France. 

When the king departed from Am- 
boise, he left there, in compliance with 
the request of the duchess, three young 
noblemen, the flower of his nobility, as 
companions for the youthful prince. One 
of these young men, Charles de Mont- 
pensier, afterwards Constable of France 
and Duke de Bourbon, was destined to 
exert an influence over the whole life of 
Margaret of Yalois, whose attachments 


20 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

had a depth and constancy rarely found 
in that age and country. Proud, re- 
served, and self-centred, the manner of 
Montpensier repelled most of those who 
approached him, and was especially 
irritating to the ardent and impulsive 
Francis, who found in M. de Gouffier 
a companion much better suited to his 
taste. 

But there was one in the castle who 
did not fail to appreciate a character so 
singularly at variance with that of the 
French nobility in general. In the soci- 
ety of the young and beautiful Mar- 
garet, the grave student laid aside his 
reserve, and unbent as he had never 
done before. In him she found what her 
heart had vainly craved — entire sympa- 
thy with her own tastes and pursuits ; 
and as she listened to his glowing words, 
she believed him to be the knight “with- 
out fear and without reproach” of whom 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 21 

she had dreamed, but whom she never 
expected to behold. 

It was not strange that two young 
people thus brought together, who were 
so unlike those about them, should feel 
strongly drawn towards each other, 
though Margaret, who was little more 
than a child, and hitherto devoted to her 
studies, had no suspicion of the state of 
her heart, and looked on Montpensier 
only as another brother. But Francis, 
the boy of twelve, was more clear-sight- 
ed, nnd urged on by M. de Gouffier, who 
hated Charles de Montpensier, he insult- 
ed that young nobleman, and even pro- 
posed a hostile meeting in the garden of 
the chateau. His tutor, M. de Gie, for- 
tunately became aware of the proposi- 
tion in season to prevent it, and rebuked 
Francis so severely, that the boy con- 
fessed his fault and begged forgiveness 
of Montpensier. It was granted; but 


22 MAEGAKET OF NAYAEEE. 

the wound still rankled, and Montpen- 
sier resolved to tear himself away from 
a spot in which nothing but pain and 
disappointment could await him. 

He accordingly sought an interview 
with Madame d’Angouleme, and announ- 
ced to her his intention of leaving the 
castle that very day. Absorbed in her 
own projects of pleasure and ambition, 
the duchess heard him without one 
word of regret or remonstrance ; while 
Margaret, pale and trembling, feared to 
speak, lest her emotion should betray 
her. With her accustomed courtesy she 
bade him farewell, and saw him leave 
the castle ; but this abrupt departure 
gave the princess the first heart-pang 
she had ever yet experienced. 

Her idolized brother was still left to 
her, however, and in his society she 
found content and happiness, though 
Charles of Bourbon was never forgotten. 


THE CASTLE OF AMBOISE. 23 

Throughout his varied and stormy ca- 
reer she watched him with deep inter- 
est, and in after-years, when other dear 
ties had been formed, and her heart 
had found rest in Jesus, his name was 
always remembered in her prayers. 


24 


MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 


II. 

J^HE JVLarriage of the J^rincess. 

Margaret of Yalois, chosen and 
called of God to become the nursing 
mother of the French Reformation, and 
the first princess of a royal house in 
Europe who embraced the reformed 
faith, was at this time a member of 
the Romish church, though with girlish 
thoughtlessness she cared little for its 
rites and ceremonies, and never went 
to mass or confession unless urged by 
her mother to do so. The clear intel- 
lect and cultivated mind of the young 
princess led her to look with disgust on 
the mummeries of the priests and the 
terrible discrepancy between the immo- 
rality of their lives and the pure doc- 
trines preached by a few among them. 


MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS. 25 

III the witty and graphic, though some- 
times coarse portraitures drawn by Mar- 
garet, we have a striking picture of the 
manners and morals of the lower clergy 
of that time. 

“1 have often heard the princess,” 
says Bran tome, '‘narrate tales of the 
priests and monks to my grandmother, 
who was her lady in waiting,, and always 
accompanied her mistress, riding near 
her litter, and taking charge of her ink- 
horn.” 

Still keenly alive as she was, even in 
childhood, to the defects of the Romish 
church, she knew as yet nothing better ; 
and influenced by the example of those 
about her, and above all by her love for 
her brother, Margaret contented her- 
self with guarding the purity of her own 
character,' while she looked with too 
much complacence on the follies and 
frailties of others. The time had not 


26 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

yet come when a purer faith was to 
open her eyes to the evil nature of all 
sin, and lead her to exclaim with the 
apostle, “Who shall deliver me from 
the body of this death ?” 

Margaret and her brother had joined 
the court at Paris, and were residing at 
the palace of the Tournelles, when the 
serious illness of the king induced him 
to take measures for the settlement in 
life of the princess, whose hand had 
already been sought by the first sover- 
eigns of Europe. Henry VII. of Eng- 
land, whose queen, Elizabeth of York, 
had recently died, was one of these suit- 
ors ; but his proposal was rejected by 
the king, from motives of state policy. 

It was at length resolved in council 
to bestow the hand of the princess on 
Charles, Duke d’Alengon, one of the 
princes of the blood royal of France. 
Young as she was, the mind and heart 


MARRIAGE OF THE FRINCESS. 27 

of Margaret were matured far beyond 
her years, and she felt most deeply the 
miseries that must attend a marriage 
thus forced upon her. Her high spirit 
revolted at the intellectual inferiority 
of the duke, who was weak, vain, and 
capricious, and more than suspected of 
cowardice, a fault which in that age 
could never be forgiven. But her tears 
and entreaties were alike vain. Madame 
d’Angouleme, from pecuniary motives, 
was willing to accept the duke as her 
son-in-law ; and when Margaret knelt 
before her, representing how unsuited 
they were to each other, and how wretch- 
ed her life must be spent in such soci- 
ety, she answered coldly, 

“The daughters of France have al- 
ways been disposed of by others for the 
good of the state. There is nothing in 
your case to call for a departure from 
the usual custom. Control yourself, for 


28 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

I am not fond of scenes, and find this 
rather wearisome.” 

What mattered it to Louisa of Savoy 
that a young and warm heart was break- 
ing, if the wealth of the Duke d’Alengon 
was henceforth to be under her control? 
What mattered it that the duke was not 
only deficient in all those brilliant qual- 
ities for which Margaret was distin- 
guished, but did not even possess the 
negative merit of appreciating them in 
another, and that he looked with jealous 
distrust on the acquirements which raised 
her so far above his own level, and made 
her the pride and ornament of the court? 

When this ill-omened marriage took 
place, with a pomp and pageantry that 
seemed to mock the wretchedness of the 
bride, Margaret declared to one of her 
friends, that as she could never give her 
heart to her husband, she would hence- 
forth devote it to God. In fact, though 


MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS. 29 

as yet she knew not Him whom she 
ignorantly sought, she mingled with the 
great world rather as a looker-on than a 
partaker in its gaj^eties, while yet she 
shone like a bright particular star, charm- 
ing and captivating all hearts. Passion- 
ately fond of letters, and gifted with a 
genius which embraced the whole circle 
of arts and sciences, she sought in lite- 
rary pursuits the peace of mind denied 
her at the domestic hearth. 

Almost immediately after the mar- 
riage of Margaret, the little princess 
Claude, a child of six, was formally be- 
trothed by the king to Francis d’Angou- 
l§me. In the society and affection of 
this child, who had been educated by 
her mother in strict seclusion, the youth- 
ful Duchess dAJengon found a sweet 
solace for the cares which beset her 
path. She loved the timid and gentle 
princess for her own sake, as well as for 


30 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

the relation she sustained to the beloved 
brother in whom all her hopes were cen- 
tred, and was unwearied in her efforts 
to form the mind and manners of the 
child-bride in conformity with the taste 
of Francis. 

Claude had not yet attained her twelfth 
year when her marriage took place, so 
soon after the death of her mother, Anne 
of Bretagne, that the bride and bride- 
groom, the princes of the blood, and all 
the members of the court-circle wore on 
that occasion dresses of deep black as 
mourning for the deceased queen. Mar- 
garet, who understood well the char- 
acter of her brother, trembled for the 
happiness of the meek and guileless 
Claude, who loved her fascinating hus- 
band with all the warmth of an innocent 
heart that had known no other affection. 
Francis was tickle and capricious, a wor- 
shipper of beauty, and a believer in the 


MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS. 31 

sentiment that the regards of a king hon- 
or all on whom they rest. He had never 
even pretended to love the wife forced 
upon him by state policy ; and though 
incapable of treating her with harshness 
or cruelty, his neglect pierced her heart 
and embittered her whole wedded life. 
Often, when wounded to the quick by 
the indifference of Francis, Claude would 
turn for sympathy and comfort to the 
bright and beautiful Margaret ; nor 
was she ever disappointed. It was one 
of the finest traits in the character of 
the “ Pearl of Yalois,” that she pos- 
sessed a quick and delicate sympathy, 
which enabled her to make the joys or 
sorrows of others her own, and was thus 
enabled through life to act the part of 
consoler for which she was so eminently 
qualified. 

The tie that united the young Francis 
and his sister was one of rare tender- 


32 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

ness and strength. Nothing seemed to 
have power to weaken it ; not even a 
difference of faith, which has separated 
so many loving hearts, could estrange 
a brother and sister so closely united. 
Francis was proud of the brilliant and 
gifted duchess — of her beauty, grace, 
and winning sweetness — and to the day 
of his death her influence over him was 
paramount to that of all others. Had 
her moral courage but equalled her affec- 
tion, she might have been the means of 
saving him from many of his worst 
errors ; but, unfortunately for both, she 
shrank from giving him pain, even for 
his own good, and loved so well to see 
him happy, that she forgot too often at 
what a price that momentary enjoyment 
was purchased. 

Not many months after the marriage 
of Francis, he learned with intense cha- 
grin that the widowed king was about to 


MARRIAGE OP THE PRINCESS. 33 

to take another wife. From the age and 
debility of the monarch, the young heir 
had long regarded himself as standing 
on the steps of the throne ; and this was 
an event which threatened to deprive 
him altogether of the succession, which 
he had been taught to consider his birth- 
right. The thought was full of bitter- 
ness, but the son of Louisa of Savoy had 
learned to dissemble, and if his heart 
was heavy his lip was wreathed in 
smiles when he waited on the king to 
congratulate him on the approaching 
nuptials. 

The good-natured monarch was em- 
barrassed, and affected to treat the 
project as a sacrifice on his part to the 
wishes of his people ; but Francis was 
not deceived, and declared to Margaret 
in a tone of bitterness : 

“ Our good cousin pretends to be in- 
different on the subject, but he is a bad 
5 


Marguerite. 


34 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

actor, and I can see plainly that lie 
already counts on a lineal successor to 
the throne.” 

“And wherefore not, dear brother?” 
the duchess replied, with a smile ; “ do 
you not find it natural that he should 
wish to leave so splendid an inheritance 
to a son of his own rather than to a 
distant branch of his family?” 

“You may be right, mignonne , but I 
confess I am not enough of a philosopher 
to look with calmness on the loss which 
threatens me.” 

“The danger is less than you im- 
agine,” replied Margaret, whose quick 
wit usually led her to' correct conclu- 
sions, “the king’s hold on life is so 
slight that the excitement consequent 
on these festivities will, I fear, destroy it. 
I love the kind old man, and regret the 
marriage on this account more than any 
other, dear as your interests are to me.” 


MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS. 35 

Mary Tudor of England, sister of 
Henry VIII., a blooming maiden of six- 
teen, was the bride selected for the aged 
and decrepit monarch, and the marriage 
took place at Greenwich, by proxy, on 
the 13th of August, 1514. The bride 
then crossed over to Boulogne, and was 
met by the Duke de Vendome, who 
escorted her to Abbeville. The retinue 
of Mary was worthy the sister and bride 
of two powerful sovereigns, and among 
her maids of honor was the fair but 
unfortunate Anne Boleyn, then in the 
first flush of youthful beauty. She sub- 
sequently passed into the service of 
Queen Claude, and thence into that of 
the Duchess d’Alengon, where she be- 
came the idol of the brilliant court. 

Louis was charmed with the loveli- 
ness of his young bride, and all Paris 
seemed intoxicated with delight. On 
the 5tli of November she was crowned 


3G MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

with great pomp at the cathedral of St. 
Denis, and the following day made her 
public entry into Paris as queen of 
France, attended by a splendid retinue 
of the nobility and foreigners of distinc- 
tion. 

The mourning of the court was at 
once changed into festivity, and jousts, 
tilts, and tournaments succeeded each 
other, though the king soon manifested 
symptoms of his inability to endure such 
dissipation and excitement. The natu- 
ral result speedily followed. An alarm- 
ing paroxysm of gout prostrated him so 
that he was compelled to take his bed, 
from which he never arose. 

When informed by his physicians 
that the end was near, he called for the 
Duke dAmgouleme, and throwing his 
arms about his neck, exclaimed with 
tears : 

“Francis, I am dying. I leave my 


MARRIAGE OF THE PRINCESS. 37 

family and subjects to your care. Never 
forget or neglect the awful responsibili- 
ties with which this hour invests you. 77 

For a short time he lingered, then, 
with a smile of affection on his lips, he 
expired in the arms of his youthful suc- 
cessor, in less than three months from 
the time of Mary’s arrival in France. 

The first days of her mourning were 
not yet ended, when the young widow 
gave her hand privately to Charles 
Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, to whom she 
had given her heart previously to leav- 
ing England. 

Francis was doubtless well pleased to 
be so easily freed from one whose pres- 
ence in his dominions might have been 
troublesome ; and though at first he 
affected great displeasure, he interceded 
with Henry so effectually, that the cul- 
prits were pardoned, and the duke of 
Suffolk again became the royal favorite. 


38 


MARGARET OF NAVAR REE. 


III. 

j^RANCIS J. AND £ElS foURT. 

The Duke d’Angouleme had just com- 
pleted his twenty-first year when, in 
1515, he was called to ascend the throne 
of France. Tall and commanding in 
person, with noble and expressive fea- 
tures, an eagle glance that seemed to 
read the soul, and manners marked with 
courteous dignity, he looked “every 
inch a king but he was naturally fickle 
indolent, and vain, and the influence of 
his mother- had tended to foster, rather 
than subdue these vices. 

Still, at the period of his accession to 
the throne, he seemed all that was noble 
and chivalric. He was the idol of the 
people, and his solemn entry into his 
good city of Paris was hailed with the 


FRANCIS I. AND HIS COURT. 39 

utmost enthusiasm by all classes. Above 
twelve hundred princes, dukes, counts, 
and gentlemen cavaliers were present 
at the games, tournaments, etc., which 
succeeded the coronation, and which 
were rendered more brilliant by the 
attendance of the queen, Madame d’An- 
gouleme, and the duchess d’Alengon, 
with the ladies of their respective suites. 

Upon his mother, the young king be- 
stowed the title of duchess, and gave 
her the palace of Amboise as a place of 
residence,- where she kept her court 
with almost regal state. His beloved 
sister Margaret was invested with the 
dignity of Madame de France, and at 
once took her place as the first lady of 
the realm, since Claude, the timid girl 
queen of Francis, had neither inclination 
nor ability to fill a position to which her 
rank entitled her. Trained up by her 
mother in habits of strict delicacy and 


40 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

reserve, she could not stoop to pander 
to the corrupt tastes of her husband, 
who soon grew weary of her circle, and 
found in the court of his mother compan- 
ions much better suited to his wishes. 

“The queen’s circle,” says Brantome, 
“was a paradise on earth, a school of 
honor and virtue, and the ornament of 
France. On visiting it, foreigners ever 
met a courteous reception ; and when 
they were expected, the queen always 
commanded that her ladies should be 
richly attired and entertain her guests 
in every proper way, but without any 
irregularity of speech or behavior.” 

Young as she was, Claude was fully 
sensible of the unfaithfulness of her hus- 
band ; still she was patient and uncom- 
plaining — a martyr to that bitterest of 
woman’s sufferings, a despised and neg- 
lected affection. Her pure principles 
were proof against the corruption with 


F11ANCIS I. AND HIS COUliT. 41 

which she was surrounded ; and like the 
moon, whose beams fall on every kind 
of impurity without sullying their bright- 
ness, so the gentle Claude witnessed on 
all sides the progress of vice, without 
contracting one stain. 

Her younger sister Renee, afterwards 
Duchess of Ferrara, and one of the firm- 
est friends of the French Reformation, 
w T as at this time a child of six, under the 
charge of the queen, who- found in the 
artless prattle and affection of the little 
princess a solace of which she often 
stood in need. 

But the star of the court circle, the 
observed of all observers, first in honor 
as in place, was Margaret of Yalois. 
Like her brother, she was handsome, 
witty, and fascinating, and combined 
with the qualities which mark true great- 
ness those milder virtues which win the 

heart. It was the study of her life to 
6 


42 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

do good and to prevent evil. Devoted 
to her brother, who was to her in the 
place of mother, husband, and friends, 
she poured out on him all that wealth of 
affection, which in others more happily 
situated flows through so many different 
channels. This absorbing affection too 
often made her blind to the gross faults 
of character in the king, which in another 
would have awakened indignation and 
disgust. 

Nor was her devotion unreturned. 
Her influence over Francis was almost 
unbounded; and nothing of importance 
was ever undertaken by him without 
having been first submitted to her judg- 
ment. When foreign ambassadors had 
been received by the king, they always 
went next to pay their respects to Mar- 
garet, whose fame for learning, wit, 
and beauty had spread over all Europe. 
Brantome, the quaint old chronicler, 


FRANCIS I. AND HIS COURT. 43 

observes that “strangers were mightily 
enchanted with Madame de Yalois, and 
gave the most glowing reports of her to 
their countrymen . ” 

The queen loved and trusted her 
above all others ; the ladies of the court 
looked up to her with respect and admi- 
ration ; and even her mother, steeped 
as she was in gayety and pleasure, paid 
an involuntary tribute to the purity of 
Margaret’s character, by shunning her 
society whenever it was possible to do so. 
“Our court of Amboise,” she said to 
one of her ladies, with a shrug of the 
shoulders, “is never itself when Madame 
de France honors us with a visit. She 
is brilliant and witty, the life of society : 
and yet, somehow, one is forced to have 
a regard for the proprieties, which I, for 
one, find very wearisome.” 

But young, beautiful, and beloved as 
she was — raised to the very summit of 


44 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

earthly influence and greatness — Mar- 
garet of Yalois was far from happy. 
The world that shone so brightly upon 
her, did not satisfy either the aspirations 
of her intellect or the cravings of her 
heart. She longed for something purer, 
higher, nobler; something of which she 
had vague dreams, though as yet she 
had known nothing of it. When the 
eyes of the world were upon her, she was 
apparently the gayest of the gay; but 
when alone in her own apartment, sighs 
and tears often attested the truth of the 
wise man’s declaration :‘*Yanity of van- 
ities, saith the preacher, all is vanity.” 

Thus was God preparing the way for 
the descent of the Holy Spirit into a 
heart which, from the circumstances of 
her birth and education, one would sup- 
pose must have been closed and barred 
against the truth. The gospel had not 
yet been proclaimed to her; but she 


FRANCIS I. AND HIS COURT. 45 

was becoming every clay more disgusted 
with the system of faith in which she 
had been trained, and her spirit groped 
in darkness for the Guide who was to 
deliver her from the maze of error in 
which she felt herself entangled. 

Meantime, while the papacy was tri- 
umphant in royal palaces and courtly 
saloons, among the smiling valleys of the 
Dauphinese Alps and on the banks of 
the river Durance a revival of the old 
Waldensian religion had already com- 
menced. “The roots of these doctrines / 7 
says an old writer, “were continually 
putting forth new shoots in every direc- 
tion . 77 Not only among the peasantry, 
but in the manor houses scattered here 
and there through the districts of the 
High Alps about Gap and Grenoble, 
might be found some who dared to think 
for themselves, and to call the church of 
Rome a synagogue of Satan, rejecting 


46 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

the worship of images and the interces- 
sion of saints as an abomination in the 
sight of God. Already the messenger 
was leaving his Alpine home for distant 
Paris who was destined, in a few years, 
to bear the glad tidings of salvation, not 
only through France, but into the neigh- 
boring cantons of Switzerland. 

At this time, however, such a mis- 
sion was the farthest possible from his 
thoughts. Like the apostle Paul, Will- 
iam Farel was, before his conversion, a 
blind and bigoted enthusiast, full of 
ardor, resolution, and indomitable perse- 
verance, and devoted to the tenets of the 
Romish faith. 

“Iam horror-struck,” he said in after- 
years, “when I consider the hours I 
have wasted, the honors I have paid, and 
the prayers I have offered and caused 
others to offer, to the shrines and im- 
ages of the Virgin Mary and the saints.” 


FRANCIS I. AND HIS COURT. 47 

The father of Farel, whose family be- 
longed to the nobility, wished his son to 
become a soldier ; but the whole soul of 
the young man was athirst for knowledge 
and light. He longed to become a great 
scholar, and begged permission to devote 
himself to study. By his persistent 
entreaties, he overcame the reluctance of 
his father, and left home for the univer- 
sity of Paris, then one of the most cele- 
brated in Europe. 


48 


MARGARE.T OF NAVAEEE. 


IV. 


Yhe Pawn of pAY. 

And now, after a long night of ages, 
daybreak was at hand, and over the 
hills and valleys of France the beams of 
the Sun of Righteousness were already 
falling, while the rest of the continent 
was still shrouded in midnight gloom. 
Luther was visiting Rome as a mendi- 
cant monk, creeping painfully up the 
steps of “Pilate’s staircase,” and Zwin- 
gle crossing the Alps with the confed- 
erates to fight the battles of the pope, 
when, in the University of Paris, the 
second in Christendom, the voice of the 
Son of God penetrated the hearts of 
Lefevre and Farel, calling them as he 
did Saul of Tarsus, and preparing them 
for a similar life work. 


THE DAWN OF DAY. 49 

When William Farel went from Dau- 
phiny to Paris, full of zeal for the inter- 
ests of the papacy, he spent nearly as 
much of his time in the churches, kneel- 
ing before the altar and calling on vari- 
ous saints, as in his studies. In one of 
these pilgrimages he noticed an aged 
man of plain appearance and diminutive 
stature, whose humility and devotion 
seemed so remarkable to the young 
scholar, that his heart was at once 
drawn towards him in love and rev- 
erence. This man was the celebrated 
Lefevre, a distinguished professor in the 
university, where, according to Eras- 
mus, he occupied the very first rank. 
Strongly attached to the Romish church, 
he yet perceived that something beyond 
external observances, beyond philosophy 
and human learning, was needed to fit 
the soul for the enjoyment of God. 
Taught by the Holy Spirit, of whom he 
7 


Margaret. 


50 MAEGAEET OF NAYAEEE. 

was yet in ignorance, this good man 
opened the Bible, and finding there the 
bread of life, longed to impart it to his 
students, and through them to all Chris- 
tendom. 

But with all his learning and experi- 
ence, Lefevre was a true son of the 
church, and submitted with the docility 
of a child to her requisitions. Farel 
soon became strongly attached to the 
venerable doctor, who returned his affec- 
tion with all the ardor of his nature. 
The two thus brought together by mu- 
tual affinity, might often have been seen 
kneeling before the same shrine, adorn- 
ing the image of the virgin with flowers, 
and offering in concert their fervent 
adorations and prayers. The friendship 
of the illustrious professor drew the 
young Farel from his obscurity, and 
introduced him to some of the most dis- 
tinguished families in Paris, by whom 


THE DAWN OF DAY. 51 

he was greatly honored, and trusted 
with large sums of money for the use of 
poorer students. 

Doubtless Lefevre and his young dis- 
ciple were sincere and earnest in their 
search after truth, yet such was their 
devotion to Romanism that it was long 
before they arrived at any clear con- 
ception of it. 

“Alas!” exclaimed Farel, long after- 
wards, “I shudder at myself and my 
faults when I look back upon them, and 
can only say, ‘ What a great and won- 
derful work of God it is, that a man 
should ever have been dragged from 
such an abyss of idolatry.’ ” 

Longing for something purer and bet- 
ter than he had ever yet found, he 
studied the profane authors, but with- 
out success. Then he read the lives o 1 
saints, but this only made him more dis- 
satisfied with himself without giving him 


52 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

strength to resist temptation. Every 
thing was tried — books, images, relics, 
pilgrimages, Plato, Aristotle, Mary and 
the Saints, but all were alike unavail- 
ing. Almost in despair, he took up the 
Bible, and encouraged by Lefevre read 
it with amazement, when he learned how 
different was the teaching of the Scrip- 
tures from every thing he saw around 
him on earth. 

Standing thus on the verge of the 
kingdom of heaven, one step more would 
have placed his feet on the Pock of 
ages, when the strong man armed seized 
and plunged him again into the abyss of 
doubt and horror. 

“Satan came suddenly upon me,” he 
says, “that he might not lose his prey, 
and dealt with me according to his custom. 
He made me fear even to look upon the 
word of God, or to believe what I saw 
there. Alas, I said to myself, I do not 


THE DAWN OF DAY. 53 

well understand these things, and doubt- 
less give a very different meaning to the 
Scriptures from that which they really 
have. I must adhere to the interpreta- 
tion of the church and of the pope.” 

Thus reasoning, he relapsed for a time 
into all his former idolatry. But Farel 
was a chosen servant of God, and this 
darkness did not long continue. The 
Days tar arose in his heart, dispersing 
the mists of error, and filling it with 
light and peace. It was his dear and 
honored friend and teacher Lefevre who 
was God’s instrument of good to his soul ; 
and as the aged doctor had once led on 
his young disciple into Romish idolatry, 
so now, having found a better way, he 
hastened to impart the good news to 
Farel. 

Often, in the course of their acquaint- 
ance, gleams of light had visited the mind 
of Lefevre, and he would express his 


54 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

conviction that the church could not long 
retain her present position, but without 
some radical change, must be destroyed. 
At the very moment of coming from 
mass or kneeling before some image, he 
would grasp the arm of his companion, 
and exclaim with deep emotion, 

“My dear William, God will reform 
the world, and you will see it.” 

“Feeble as he was, Lefevre had en- 
gaged with his usual enthusiasm in the 
arduous task of collecting the legends of 
the saints and martyrs according to their 
rank in the Romish calendar. He had 
gone through only two months, when a 
ray of light from heaven, like that which 
visited Saul on his way to Damascus, 
pierced his heart, revealing to him the 
folly and absurdity of the stories he was 
trying to rescue from oblivion, when 
compared with the simplicity and ma- 
jestic sublimity of the word of God. 


THE DAWN OF DAY. 55 

Throwing aside those puerile legends, 
he turned eagerly to the Scriptures, and 
studied them with all the fervid energy 
of his soul. 

“ From the moment / 7 writes D 7 Au- 
bigne, “that Lefevre, quitting the won- 
drous tales of the saints, laid his hand 
on the Bible, a new era appeared in 
France, and the Reformation was "be- 
gun . 77 

Commencing with the epistles of Paul, 
Lefevre soon threw aside his breviary; 
and as his own heart became warmed 
and enlightened by the truth, he longed 
to impart it to others. The doctrine of 
justification by faith , which a few years 
later rang out in Germany the death- 
knell of popery, was boldly proclaimed 
by the aged professor in the halls of the 
Sorbonne. 

“It is God alone , 77 he taught, “who, 
by his grace through faith, justifies us 


5G MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

unto eternal life. There is a right of 
works and a right of grace ; one comes 
from men, the other from God^” 

Never since the foundation of the uni- 
versity had its vaulted roof echoed to 
teachings such as these ; and some of his 
astonished hearers exclaimed : 

“ What then ? If we are not justified 
by works, is it not in vain that we per- 
form them ?” 

“Certainly not,” replied Lefevre; 
“good works are never in vain. They 
are necessary as signs of a living faith, 
which is accompanied by justification.” 

Among the students who listened to 
these words, which contradicted the 
teaching of four centuries, was one 
whose soul received them with intense 
interest and delight. Farel had been 
brought to feel that he could not save 
himself by works or penances, and this 
news of free salvation through a Re- 


THE DAWN OF DAY. 57 

deemer fell like heavenly music on his 
ear. His intellect assented to the doc- 
trine, his heart embraced it; and hav- 
ing received the word with joy, he gave 
up every energy of soul and body to the 
work of diffusing it throughout the land. 

“Thus,” says Beza, “was Farel 
led into the truth — that burning Farel 
who, undismayed by difficulties, threats, 
abuse, or imprisonment, won over to 
Jesus Christ Montbelliard, Neufchatel, 
Lausanne, Aigle, and Geneva.” 

The French Reformation was not im- 
ported from abroad ; it was in every 
sense of French growth ; and William 
Farel must be regarded as the Luther 
of France and a part of Switzerland. In 
some points of character, he resembled 
the immortal German reformer, though 
perhaps he lacked the wisdom and sound 
judgment which marked that great man. 
For the work given him to do he was 


58 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

eminently qualified. As a pioneer, pre- 
paring the way of the Lord, he stood 
alone in his age ; while to others coming 
after him was given the honor of organ- 
izing and settling the infant churches 
which he founded. 


GRACE OF GOD IN THE PALACE. 59 


Y. 

'J' HE jGrRACE OF pcOE> IN THE j^ALACE, 

Margaret d’Alengon, or Madame de 
France, was now in the prime of wom- 
anhood, brilliant, beautiful, admired, 
standing nearest the throne in rank 
and influence, and known throughout 
Europe as the friend and patroness of 
learning. The world, with all its wealth 
and honors, seemed literally at her feet, 
and wherever she went, the breath of 
adulation surrounded her like an at- 
mosphere. Indeed, if we were to relate 
all that is said of this fascinating wom- 
an by contemporary writers, we should 
seem to be writing fiction rather than 
truth. 

“My sister Margaret,” said the king 


60 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

one day to a favorite, “ is the only wom- 
an I ever knew who has every virtue 
and every grace, without one mixture 
of vice ; and yet she is never wearisome 
or insipid, as yon good people are apt 
to be.” 

Francis, though outwardly a Roman- 
ist, was at heart an infidel, and like Gal- 
lio, “cared for none of these things.” 
He lived only for pleasure and ambi- 
tion, and whatever did not minister to 
one of these was regarded by him with 
supreme indifference. 

How could one like Margaret, liv- 
ing under such influences as those which 
encircled her, be made to hear the still 
small voice of the Spirit, “convincing 
her of sin, of righteousness, and of judg- 
ment?” With man it would seem im- 
possible ; but God, who leads the blind 
by paths they know not, was even then 
preparing a teacher for Margaret, per- 


GRACE OF GOD IN THE PALACE. 61 

liaps the only man in France who could 
have found a way to the heart of the 
refined and fastidious princess. 

Among the noblemen of the court, one 
of the most distinguished was William 
Bri^onnet, son of the cardinal of St. 
Malo, who had entered the church after 
the death of his wife. Count William, 
who was studious and fond of retirement, 
took holy orders, and became bishop of 
Lodhve and Meaux. He was twice sent 
ambassador to Rome,, but returned to 
Paris, haying been proof against the 
flatteries and seductions of Pope Leo X. 

A man like Bri^onnet could not fail 
to be interested in the religious move- 
ment going forward not only in the halls 
of the Sorbonne, but in each of the four 
colleges of the theological faculty in the 
city. Farel was then lecturing in one 
of these colleges, and two friends of his, 
pupils of Lefevre, the Roussel brothers, 


62 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

were laboring with enthusiasm in the 
same cause. Brigonnet, fresh from the 
splendor and gayeties of Rome, was 
amazed to find such a work going for- 
ward in a city like Paris, and among a 
people so thoughtless and volatile as the 
French. He had formerly known Lefe- 
vre, and now renewed his acquaintance, 
listening with the meek submission of a 
child to the teachings of the venerable 
professor, in whose room he first met 
Farel, the two Roussels, and others of 
similar character, who, like him, were 
thirsting for the truth. 

The illustrious prelate was willing to 
sit at the feet of the humblest disciple 
who had been taught of Jesus ; but above 
all things, he longed for a more intimate 
knowledge of the Saviour himself, that 
bis own heart might reflect His glorious 
image. 

“I am in darkness,” he complains, 


GEACE OF GOD IN THE PALACE. 63 

“awaiting the grace of the Divine be- 
nevolence from which I am exiled by my 
great demerits . 77 Dazzled by the brill- 
iance of this new light, he exclaimed : 

“The eyes of men are too weak to 
receive the whole effulgence of this great 
luminary . 77 

Lefevre, after his usual custom, sent 
Brigonnet to the Bible. Having for the 
first time in his life applied himself to 
study and understand it, the bishop 
could talk of nothing but the wonders of 
the book he had neglected so long. 

“Such is the sweetness of this divine 
food , 77 he says, “ that it makes the mind 
insatiable. The more we taste, the more 
we long for it. What vessel is able to 
receive and contain this inexhaustible 
sweetness? But the dwelling expands 
according to our desire to entertain this 
heavenly Guest. Faith is the quarter- 
master who can alone find room for him, 


64 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

or, more truly, who makes us to dwell 
in him.” 

Through this channel evangelical opin- 
ions found their way into the dissolute 
and frivolous court of Francis I. When 
he saw such men as Brigonnet not afraid 
to avow themselves friends of reform in 
the church, he thought it not beneath him 
to listen to their arguments. He often 
met with them in their own circles, in- 
vited them to his table, urged them to 
speak freely, and gave them the appel- 
lation of ''children.” They were men 
of intellect and vast knowledge, and 
Francis loved learning, and even went 
so far as to found Greek and Hebrew 
professorships for the better understand- 
ing of the word of God ; thus preparing 
the way for the diffusion of the Scrip- 
tures throughout France. But while 
Francis paid intellectual homage to the 
truth — though his heart was untouched 


GRACE OF GOD IN THE PALACE. 65 

by it, his sister Margaret listened to the 
bishop with the eager interest of one to 
whom a new world has been opened. 
Some of the ladies of her court told her 
of Lefevre, Farel, and their associates, 
and of the strange doctrines they were 
preaching. They procured for the prin- 
cess the little books then first called 
“tracts/ 7 which the reformers were pub- 
lishing, and which described the primi- 
tive church, the Holy Scriptures, and 
the liberty which frees men from the 
yoke of sin, by leading them to trust in 
Christ alone. 

The princess sent for Farel and his 
friends, held many conversations with 
them, and was charmed with their piety, 
humility, and zeal ; but it was the bishop 
of Meaux, her old and tried friend, who 
became her guide and teacher in the 
way of salvation through a crucified 
Redeemer. Alone in her closet, on her 
9 


Margaret. 


66 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

knees before God, she prayed for divine 
light as she read the Bible Brigonnet had 
given her, and found in it all for which 
she had so long and vainly thirsted. She 
was weak; here was infinite strength. 
She was ignorant ; here was divine knowl- 
edge. She was in darkness; here was 
the Day spring from on high waiting to 
visit her heart, to fill it with heavenly 
light, and guide her feet into the paths 
of peace. 

In the poems and letters she has left, 
we have a striking picture of the grad- 
ual change wrought in her heart by the 
entrance of this divine light. As she 
looked back on her past life, and saw 
the levity with which she had treated 
the immoralities of those about her, she 
exclaims : 


“Is there a gulf of ill, so deep and wide, 
That can suffice but e’en a tenth to hide 
Of my vile sins ?” 


GRACE OF GOD IN THE PALACE. 67 

Until now she had fancied herself 
purer and better than others ; but when 
her eyes were opened, she saw the cor- 
ruption of her nature, and exclaims : 

“ Well do I feel within me, sin the root ; 

Without are branch and foliage, flower and fruit.” 

“Still though before thee a poor worm I be, 

My God, thou hast come down on earth to me.” 

It was not long ere the love of God in 
Christ was shed abroad in her heart, 
and then her ardent nature pours itself 
forth in the following quaint lines : 

“Word divine, Jesus Salvator, 

Only Son of the eternal Pater ; 

The first, the last, of all things Renovator, 
Bishop and King and mighty Triumphator, 

By death from death our Liberator ; 

By faith we ’re children of the Creator.” 

From this time a change, that could 
not but be visible to all, was wrought 
in the Duchess d'Alengon, though she 
was often made to feel that the power of 
sin was not yet wholly subdued. 


68 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

“In spirit noble, but in nature slave, 

Immortal am I, tending to the grave ; 

Essence of heaven, and yet of mortal birth, 
God’s dwelling-place, and yet how little worth !” 

An ardent lover of nature, Margaret 
sought by natural emblems to express 
the affections and aspirations of her soul. 

Bran tome says: “She chose for her 
emblem the marigold, which by its rays 
and leaves has a seeming affinity with 
the sun, and turns wherever he goes. 
She added this device, ‘ I seek not 
things below,’ as a sign that she direct- 
ed all her actions, thoughts, desires, and 
affections to that great Sun which is 
God; and hence she was accused of 
having become a Lutheran.” 

It was impossible that a work of grace 
like this should take place in the heart 
of one who was the centre of a gay 
and dissolute court, without exciting un- 
bounded surprise in the courtiers who 
thronged the saloons of Francis. They 


GRACE OF GOD IN T1IE PALACE. 69 

knew her pride of intellect and con- 
scious superiority, and felt that noth- 
ing but earnest conviction could have 
wrought such a change. 

“ What !” they exclaimed, “ can it be 
possible that this illustrious princess, 
who in effect shares the throne of the 
king — can she stoop to consort with 
those heretics, whom all men despise?” 

Some even went so far as to complain 
of her to the king, but his answer taught 
them how little sympathy they had to 
expect from him where this cherished 
sister was concerned. 

“The duchess loves me too well,” was 
his reply, “to believe any thing con- 
trary to my faith ; and even if you were 
correct, I love her too well to allow her 
to be troubled on that account.” 

In an age like that of which we write, 
when the corruptions of the church of 
Rome had deluged all the nations of 


70 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

Europe, producing universal degener- 
acy, the mind dwells with delight on a 
character like that of Margaret, though 
marred by imperfections which none 
could feel or deplore more deeply than 
herself. Her convictions of truth were 
clear and strong, but feminine tender- 
ness often held her back from expres- 
sing them even where principle was at 
stake; and the love for Francis, which 
was a part of her being, led her to over- 
look serious errors in him which, if she 
had been faithful, might perhaps have 
been avoided. 

Placed between her brother and her 
Saviour, she endeavored to cling to 
both, and in the effort found herself 
often in thick darkness, without one ray 
of light. Still, imperfect as she was, her 
character was without a parallel in the 
sixteenth century throughout Europe. 

'‘Every one,’ 1 says the courtly chron- 


GRACE OF GOD IN THE PALACE. 71 

icier Bran tome, “ loved her, for she was 
kind to all, gracious, charitable, and 
affable, a great almsgiver, but withal 
bestowing words and smiles more pre- 
cious than gold ; despising no one, and 
winning all hearts by her excellent 
qualities .’ 7 

But it is as a Christian, as the fol- 
lower of Christ in the midst of a proud 
and splendid but profligate court, that 
she shone like a star, with a radiance 
that illumines the whole period in which 
she lived. Many of the nobility were 
induced by her example to look into 
the new doctrines and to adopt them, 
some sincerely and from conviction of 
the truth, and others simply to please 
the beautiful Margaret, on whose lips 
even unwelcome opinions had power to 
charm. 

It was at this time that that the fami- 
lies of Condo, Montgomery, Rochefou- 


72 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

cauld, La Noue, and others, whose names 
will live for ever in the annals of reform, 
first separated from the church of Rome 
and adopted a new and living faith. 
Those who yielded only an intellectual 
assent to the doctrines of the gospel fell 
back at the first blast of trial and temp- 
tation, to return no more ; others, too 
proud to own themselves in error, stood 
by the reformers, though their hearts 
were untouched by the truth they sought 
to defend. 

A few there were who, like the Duch- 
ess d’ Alengon, walked with steadfast feet 
through the gaping, wondering crowd, 
succoring the needy, binding up broken 
and bleeding hearts, and strengthening 
the hands of those teachers of the 
reformed faith who were even now be- 
ginning to feel the truth of the declara- 
tion that “they who will live godly in 
Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.” 


GRACE OF GOD IN THE PALACE. 73 

Unhappily, France knew not the day 
of her visitation, but when the message 
of salvation was sent to her, turned 
away from it in unbelief and scorn ; 
and a moral darkness that was to last 
for ages settled down upon her. 


10 


74 


MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 


VI. 


'J ' RIALS OP THE JnFANT j^EFORMATION. 

The illustrious conquests made by the 
Reformation in France, seemed to the 
eye of man to insure the stability and 
permanence of the movement. Lefevre, 
Farel, Brigonnet, and Margaret of Yalois 
were its supporters ; some of the highest 
nobles of the realm had given in their 
names as adherents of the new faith ; 
and even the gay king himself seemed 
more attracted by the splendor of the 
literature attending it than repelled by 
the severity of its doctrines. Hitherto 
no open opposition had been made ; the 
tongue of slander was silenced for a 
time by the blameless deportment of 
the reformers and their followers. 

But this was only a lull before the 


THE INFANT KEFOEMATION. 75 

storm. There was one woman at the 
French court whose influence over the 
king was second only to that of Marga- 
ret, and who now wished to expiate the 
gross immorality of a whole life by her 
zeal in upholding the interests of the 
Romish church. 

This was Louisa of Savoy, mother of 
the king and Madame de France, who 
feared and hated the religion of the 
Bible in proportion as its purity rebuked 
the license of her own conduct and that 
of her court. She was ably seconded in 
her purpose to destroy the infant refor- 
mation by the chancellor of the king- 
dom, Duprat, a creature of her own, of 
whom a contemporary historian says, 
“He was the most vicious of all bipeds.’ 7 

Madame d’Angoulgme and Duprat, 
working on the ambition of Francis, and 
ministering to his love of pleasure, ob- 
tained so much influence over him, that 


76 MARGARET OP NAVARRE. 

lie was induced to consent to an inter- 
view with Pope Leo X. at Bologna, du- 
ring w r hich he signed the famous Concor- 
dat. By virtue of this instrument, the 
two princes divided the spoils of the 
church between them, wdiile the king 
agreed to take the strongest measures 
to put down heresy in his dominions. 
While the higher classes listened gladly 
to the preachers of the truth, the mass 
of the French people continued faithful 
to the see of Rome, and the king and 
people were justly regarded by the pope 
as an overmatch for Margaret and the 
nobility. But when he would have in- 
serted a clause declaring that heresy 
should be hunted out, “ no matter where 
the blow might fall,” the king refused to 
sign such a document, for he well knew 
at whom it was aimed. His beloved sis- 
ter Margaret, the ornament of his court 
and his most trusted friend and counsel- 


THE INFANT REFORMATION. 77 

lor, might be the first to feel the force 
of such a pledge, and therefore he would 
never give it. 

The Concordat was arranged as he 
wished ; and having signed it, he said 
to Duprat, as they left the Yatican : 

“That paper is enough to destroy us 
both to all eternity.’ 7 

Still the love of money and of power 
urged him forward ; and giving over his 
helpless subjects to the control of the 
chancellor, he buried himself in dissipa- 
tion, passing from castle to castle with 
his favorite courtiers and the ladies of 
his mother’s suite, leading in villages 
and forests the same sumptuous life that 
he did in his palace of the Tournelles at 
Paris, utterly unmindful of the disorders 
that reigned throughout the capital. 

Meantime the university of the Sor- 
bonne, where the good news of salva- 
tion was first proclaimed, was stirred 


78 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

up by a doctor named Beda, of whom 
Erasmus said, "‘There are three thou- 
sand monks in this one Beda,” to con- 
demn Lefevre and his friends for preach- 
ing heretical doctrine. But when the 
accusers appeared before the king to 
urge the condemnation of these men, he 
replied : 

“No, I will not have these people 
molested. If we persecute those, who 
teach us, we shall prevent all able schol- 
ars from coming into our country.” 

Doubtless the influence of Margaret 
might be traced here, as well as in 
the interference of Francis to protect 
the venerable professor when he was 
brought before the ecclesiastical courts 
on a charge of heresy. Glad to have 
an opportunity of opposing the preten- 
sions of the Sorbonne and of humbling 
the monks, the king rescued Lefevre 
and sternly reproved his adversaries. 


THE INFANT REFORMATION. 79 

But Beda and his party, sustained 
by Duprat and Madame d’Angouleme, 
found so many ways of harassing the 
reformers, that Lefevre, aged, and fee- 
ble, and tormented incessantly, longed 
for repose. Brigonnet, who had retired 
to his diocese of Meaux, invited him to 
take shelter under his protection, where. 
Farel, Boussel, and others were already 
assembled. Thus was Paris forsaken by 
the preachers of the pure gospel ; and 
by this act that wicked city drew down 
upon herself the terrible judgments of 
the Almighty. The horrors of the French 
Revolution, more than two centuries af- 
terwards were the natural consequences 
of the spirit of intolerance which drove 
away the bishop of Meaux and his asso- 
ciates from the capital, and gave back 
the nation, bound hand and foot, into 
the power of the Romish priesthood. 

Margaret of Yalois, deprived of the 


80 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

friends she most loved and trusted, felt 
lonely and anxious in the midst of the 
licentious courts of her mother and her 
brother. Her own safety depended on 
the affection of Francis; and she could 
not but feel that this might at length be 
overpowered by motives of self-interest 
or the necessity of satisfying his ally the 
pope. The Romish ecclesiastics hated 
Margaret even more than Far el and Le- 
fevre ; for they well knew that without 
her powerful aid the reformers would 
never have been able to maintain the 
ground they had gained among the high- 
er classes ; and the patronage of one so 
admired for beauty, wit, and learning 
gave the new faith an importance which 
stung them to the soul. In this time of 
loneliness and sorrow a friend was raised 
up for her by God, in the person of her 
aunt, Philiberta of Savoy, who, unlike 
her sister, Madame d’Angouleme, was a 


THE INFANT REFORMATION. 81 

devoted follower of the meek and lowly 
Saviour. 

Philiberta had been given in marriage 
by Francis to Julian de Medici, brother 
of Leo X., soon after signing the Con- 
cordat. A few years were spent by the 
young bride in the utmost splendor and 
gayety, when Julian, who commanded 
the army of the pope, died suddenly, 
leaving her at eighteen a childless wid- 
ow. In the midst of her grief, one of 
those Waldensian teachers, who from 
time to time made their appearance 
among the mountains of Savoy, told her 
of Jesus, of his love for sinners, his 
death and resurrection, and his con- 
tinual intercession before his Father’s 
throne. Such a friend was just what 
the sorrowing princess needed ; and with 
a heart prepared for the reception of the 
truth, she visited the court of France, 
where similarity of tastes soon led to an 
11 


Marguerite. 


82 M A KG ARE T OF NAYAKKE. 

intimacy between Philiberta and Mar- 
garet. The latter read to her, conversed 
and prayed with her, and had at length 
the happiness of hearing from the prin- 
cess a full confession of her faith in 
Christ. Still the widow of Julian was 
too young and inexperienced to take a 
firm stand for the truth in opposition to 
her imperious sister, and Margaret often 
trembled as she thought of her own weak- 
ness, standing nearly alone in the midst 
of open and concealed enemies. 

Her husband the Duke d’Alengon 
had left Paris for the army, her aunt 
and Christian friend Philiberta was 
going to Savoy, and the good bishop and 
his associates were all at Meaux. In 
her loneliness she writes to Brigonnet : 

“ Monsieur de Meaux: Knowing that 
the favor of One alone is necessary, I 
apply to you, entreating you to suppli- 
cate in prayer that God will be pleased 


THE INFANT REFORMATION. 83 

to guide, according to his holy will, M. 
d’Alengon, who, by command of the 
king, is setting out as lieutenant-general 
of his army, which will not, I fear, be 
disbanded without a war; and thinking 
that, besides the public weal of the king- 
dom, you have a living interest in what- 
soever concerns his salvation and mine, 
1 pray for your spiritual aid. To-mor- 
row my aunt of Nemours leaves us for 
Savoy. I am obliged to meddle with 
many things that cause me much fear ; 
therefore, if you should know that Mas- 
ter Michael could undertake a journey 
hither, it would be a consolation to me, 
which I ask only for the honor of G-od.” 

Michael of Aranda who is here men- 
tioned, was a member of the evangelical 
society at Meaux, and a devoted preacher 
of the gospel. 

In one of her letters, Margaret com- 
plains of the terror she felt, in view of 


84 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

the fierce opposition of Duprat, Beda, 
and the doctors of the Sorbonne. Bri- 
gonnet replied in an encouraging tone : 

“It is the war which the gentle Jesus 
tells us in the gospel he came on earth 
to bring, and also the fire that trans- 
forms earthliness into heavenliness. I 
desire with all my heart to aid you, 
madame, but from my nothingness ex- 
pect nothing but the will. Whoso hath 
faith, hope, and love, hath all he re- 
quires, and needs not aid or support 
God alone is all in all. This war is 
fought by love. Jesus demands the gift 
of the heart. Wretched is the man who 
goes away from him.” 

Brigonnet was learning by personal 
experience what it is to fight for the 
word of God. The monks and theolo- 
gians, irritated by the protection afford- 
ed by him to the heretical teachers, 
accused him so loudly, that his brother, 


THE INFANT EE FORMATION. 85 

the bishop of St. Malo, came to Paris to 
look into the matter. Margaret felt 
deeply for her revered friend, and wrote 
as follows : 

“ If in any thing yon think that I can 
assist or comfort you or yours, I pray 
yon to believe that every trouble will 
turn to my content. May everlasting 
peace be yours, after these long wars 
that you are waging for the faith, in 
which battle you desire to die. 

“ Wholly your daughter, 

“MARGARET.” 

“I have all the tracts you have sent 
me,” she writes at another time, “of 
which my aunt of Nemours has a part, 
and I will forward her the rest ; for she 
is in Savoy at her brother’s wedding, 
which is no slight loss to me, for I have 
none left like her ; wherefore, I beseech 
you, take pity on my loneliness.” 

Margaret was soon to be deprived of 


86 MARGARET OF NAYARIIE. 

this dear relative, on whom she could 
now look as a sister in one common 
faith. Philiberta of Nemours died in 
1524, at the age of twenty-six. Her 
death was a severe blow to Madame 
dAJengon, who, next to her beloved 
brother, loved her youthful aunt better 
than all on earth besides. She wrote to 
Brigonnet, who replied in the following 
words : 

“Madame: You tell me to pity you, 
because you are alone. I do not under- 
stand that word. Whoso loves the world 
supremely is alone ; but she whose heart 
sleeps to the world, and is awake to the 
gentle Jesus, is alone, for she lives on 
the one thing needful, and yet not alone, 
being kept in Him who fills and pre- 
serves all things. I cannot and must 
not pity such loneliness, which is more 
to be esteemed than the whole world. 
Abide, therefore, madame, in your only 


THE INFANT BEF0EM ATION. 87 

true Friend, who has been pleased to 
suffer for us a painful and ignominious 
passion.” 

These consoling words fell upon the 
ear of Margaret without cheering her 
heart. Every thing around her seemed 
dark and desolate, and she could see no 
ray of light. 

“As a sheep in a stray country,” she 
writes to Brigonnet, “wandering about, 
not knowing where to find its pasture 
through lack of knowing its new shep- 
herds, naturally looks up towards that 
quarter whence the shepherd once gave 
her sweet nourishment, so am I con- 
strained to pray for your charity. Come 
down from the high mountain, and in 
pity regard among thy benighted people 
the blindest of all thy fold, 

“MABGABET.” 

In his reply the bishop expresses a 
hope that the grace of God may touch 


88 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

the heart of the king and Madame d’An- 
gouleme, so that from them a light might 
go out to bless and enlighten the nation. 
Margaret could not share in this hope. 
She knew too well the worldliness and 
indifference of Francis, and the intoler- 
ance of her mother, and her heart was 
wrung with anguish as she wrote to the 
bishop : 

“ Pity me, reverend sir, for the times 
are so cold and my heart so icy and 
at the close she signs herself, 

“Your hungry, thirsty, and frozen 
daughter, 


“ MARGARET. 


DEFEAT OF FRANCIS. 


89 


VII. 


J^he JDefeat and JDaptiyity of 

j^RANCIS. 

The king of France had scornfully 
rejected the gospel when it was offered 
to him, and not only so, but he had lent 
his name and influence to its enemies j 
and now, in his turn, he was to find him- 
self forsaken of God in the hour of need. 
The battle of Pavia, fought on the 24th 
of February, 1525, between the French 
and Spanish armies, terminated most 
disastrously for Francis, whose choicest 
troops were cut in pieces, his principal 
officers left dead on the field, and him- 
self taken captive and forced to give up 
his sword to Lannoy, the viceroy of 
Naples. The royal captive was detained 

in Italy for a few months, and then sent 
12 


90 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

to Madrid, where his case seemed almost 
hopeless ; for, now the emperor Charles 
had him wholly in his power, he was not 
likely to give up a rival whom he "both 
feared and hated. 

The news of this disaster was a fearful 
blow to the court and nation ; but Mar- 
garet, wounded alike in her love and 
pride, was pierced to the heart by the 
intelligence. To make her distress still 
more poignant, her husband the duke 
d’Alengon behaved shamefully, flying 
from the field with the rear guard, and 
leaving the king to his fate. The sensi- 
tive and high-spirited princess felt this 
cowardly desertion even more than the 
fatal result of the battle ; and when her 
mother was lamenting the fate of Fran- 
cis, she exclaimed bitterly : 

“Madame, if my poor brother has lost 
all besides, he has at least preserved 
his honor; but what shall be said of M. 


DEFEAT OF FRANCIS. 91 

d’Alengon, who, by his shameful treach- 
ery, has covered himself and all con- 
nected with him with lasting infamy ?” 

When the duke returned to France, 
Margaret received him with a coldness 
which must have made him feel that 
henceforth all was over between them. 

“Monseigneur,” she said, in reply to 
his attempted apologies, “if you had 
died gloriously on the field of battle, or 
if you had shared the captivity of your 
king, I would have mourned for you as 
•brave men should be mourned. Had 
your unworthy conduct injured only me, 
still I might have pardoned it ; but your 
desertion of my noble brother in his 
utmost need I never can or will forgive. 
It is enough that I must still bear your 
name, now for the first time disgraced ; 
more than that I will never do. From 
this hour we meet only as strangers.” 

The unhappy duke went from Paris 


92 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

to Lyons, where he died in a few weeks, 
unable to endure the load of obloquy 
heaped upon him from every quarter; 
for all France was in mourning, so great 
had been the slaughter on the fatal field 
of Pavia. 

In judging of Margaret’s conduct on 
this occasion, we must remember the 
age in which she lived ; and the pride 
of birth and character which, though 
modified by her religious principles, was 
not subdued. She had never loved the 
husband forced upon her by the king,* 
and now she heard the opinion express- 
ed on every side that, if the duke had 
done his duty, the result might have 
been changed, and Francis, instead of 
Charles, the victor. The glory of her 
country was tarnished ; France left with- 
out a monarch, and exposed to the great- 
est dangers; the brother dearer to her 
than life, a captive in the hands of his 


DEFEAT OF FHANCIS. 93 

worst enemy; and her husband a dis- 
honored fugitive — we can hardly won- 
der that such a complication of evils 
should at first render her nearly fran- 
tic. 

But calmer and better thoughts came 
soon ; and while Francis composed him- 
self by repeating, “All is lost save hon- 
or,” his sister had found consolation in 
prayer, and replies : 

“Save Christ alone, dear brother ; he 
the Son of God still lives and reigns.” 

It was the hope and belief of Marga- 
ret that in this hour of trial her beloved 
brother might be brought to embrace 
the faith which she had found so pre- 
cious. A few months before, on the 
occasion of the death of his little daugh- 
ter, the princess Charlotte, the king had 
manifested strong religious feeling, wri- 
ting to his sister the following words : 

“Dear as she was, I would rather die 


94 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

than desire to have her back again in 
this world contrary to the will of God, 
whose name be ever blessed.” 

Margaret trusted that the terrible les- 
son taught him at Pavia might complete 
the good work in his heart. But, alas, 
the slight impression made upon that 
inconstant heart had long since worn 
away, and Francis was fast settling into 
that most hopeless of characters, a reck- 
less unbeliever in all forms of faith. 

The following touching letter, together 
with a copy of the Epistles of Paul, was 
sent by the duchess to the royal prisoner 
soon after his arrival in Spain. She 
undoubtedly speaks of herself and Bri- 
£onnet in the allegory with, which her 
letter opens : 

“Dear Brother: There is a certain 
very devout hermit, who for these three 
years past has been constantly urging a 
person whom I know to pray for the 


DEFEAT OF FRANCIS. 95 

king, which he has done ; and he is as- 
sured that — if it pleases the king, by way 
of devotion, daily to read in his closet 
the epistles of St. Paul with prayer — 
he may be delivered from his enemies 
to the glory of God ; for He hath prom- 
ised in his gospel, that whosoever loveth 
the truth, ‘ the truth shall make him free . 1 
And forasmuch as I think you have them 
not, I send you mine, begging you to 
read them ; and I firmly believe that the 
Holy Spirit, which abides in the word, 
will do for you as great things as he did 
for those who wrote them, since he is not 
less good and powerful than he was then, 
and his promises never deceive. He 
has humbled you by captivity, but you 
are not forsaken, as you have hope and 
courage, and a mind at liberty in spite 
of the imprisonment of the body. 

“ Your ever loving 


MARGARET. 


96 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

A few weeks later slie wrote again : 

“My dear Lord: The farther 3^011 
seem removed from us, the stronger are 
my hopes of 3 T our deliverance ; for when 
the reason of man is troubled and fails, 
then the Lord performs his mighty 
works. And now, if he makes you par- 
taker of the pains he has borne for }^ou, 
I beseech you, dear brother, to believe 
that it is only to try how much }^ou love 
him, and to teach you how much lie loves 
you ; for he will have }^our whole heart, 
as he hath through love given you his 
own. Oh, how blessed will be your brief 
captivitj r , if by this means his name may 
be known and sanctified, not only in 
3 r our kingdom, but through all Christen- 
dom, to the conversion of unbelievers . 77 

The hopes of the princess were des- 
tined to meet a cruel disappointment in 
regard to the conversion of this dearl}" 
loved brother, who died as he had lived, 


DEFEAT OF FKANCIS. 97 

in the arms of the Catholic church. Other 
sorrows, too, were gathering about the 
princess. In the absence of the king, 
his mother, Louisa of Savoy, who acted 
as regent, wrote a letter to the pope, 
requesting to know his pleasure con- 
cerning the heretics. 

The answer soon came, and Madame 
d’Angouhhne and Duprat, whom the 
pope had made a cardinal, lost no time 
in attempting to carry out the advice 
given. Lefevre, who had long been har- 
assed by the doctors of the Sorbonne, 
was compelled to fly from Meaux under 
an assumed name, and to take refuge in 
Strasburg, where he was soon joined by 
Far el, Roussel, and others who with 
them had been banished from France. 
Berguin and Michael d’Arande, chaplain 
to the princess Margaret, were arrested, 
and in spite of the entreaties of Marga- 
ret, committed to prison ; and last of all, 


98 MAEGAEET OF NAVAEEE. 

Bri£onnet, the friend of Francis and his 
sister, one of the most eminent church- 
men in France, was impeached, and sum- 
moned before the Parliament on a charge 
of heresy. 

It is painful to follow the venerable 
bishop through this trial, which might 
have terminated so gloriously for the 
infant church. Had he been faithful 
even unto death, France might even 
then have been saved; but instead of 
this, he trembled, he wavered, and finally 
fell back and made a formal recantation 
of what he called his errors of faith. 
From this time, though he lived eight 
years after his apostacy, we hear no 
more of Brigonnet, whose fall is one of 
the most remarkable in the whole his- 
tory of the Reformation. He was doubt- 
less sincere in his advocacy of the truth, 
and perhaps, like Cranmer, repented be- 
fore God of his moral cowardice, for it is 


DEFEAT OF FEANCIS. 99 

certain that to the clay of his death the 
Romish hierarchy did not place confi- 
dence in him. Seeking to save his life 
and honors, he lost them in this world 
certainly so far as all that makes life 
valuable is concerned. 

That was a time of trial such as Mar- 
garet of Yalois had never yet known. 
Her brother was in a foreign prison — 
her husband in a dishonored grave— her 
friend and guide had denied the Lord 
who bought him — and all the teachers 
of the new faith were either in exile or 
in prison. The young Queen Claude, 
though a devout Catholic, was gentle 
and tolerant, and in her affection the 
princess could confide without a doubt ; 
but she was a mother, anxious for her 
little ones in the absence of their father, 
and a wife, grieving for the misfortunes 
of a husband who had never loved her ; 
and moreover, her health, never firm, 


100 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

was now fatally impaired. Margaret 
well knew that nothing but her personal 
qualities, her popularity at court, and 
her influence over the king, saved her 
from the fate of her proscribed and per- 
secuted friends. In this season of dark- 
ness and distress, the princess formed a 
resolution which marks the singular en- 
ergy of her character, as well as the 
strong attachment that bound her to the 
king. 


MARGARET IN SPAIN. 


101 


VIII. 

JVSlARGARET OP yALOIS IN jSFAIN. 

Francis I., on his arrival in the Span- 
ish dominions, instead of the honorable 
treatment he had been led to expect, 
found himself a close prisoner, con- 
stantly attended by a guard, and only 
permitted to leave his prison for exer- 
cise, mounted on a mule and surrounded 
by soldiers. Exhausted by disappoint- 
ment, self-reproach, and regret, outraged 
and betrayed, the spirits of the monarch 
at length gave way, and he became seri- 
ously ill. 

It was only by accident, and not until 
his illness was extreme, that it became 
known to his family and friends, and the 
agony of Margaret on hearing the news 
was intense. Living or dying, she felt 


102 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

that her place was at his side, and her 
resolution was instantly formed to pro- 
ceed in person to Spain, and if he were 
still living, to endeavor to effect the 
release of her beloved brother. When 
this intention was publicly announced it 
was received with the utmost enthusiasm 
by all classes. Her great genius, and 
the reputation she had gained throughout 
Europe, her fascination of manner, and 
the love existing between herself and 
Francis, all marked her as the proper 
person to attempt this delicate negotia- 
tion, and led every one to expect the 
happiest results. 

It was necessary, however, to secure a 
safe conduct from Charles before trust- 
ing so illustrious a victim in his power, 
and Montmorency was sent to Spain to 
procure it. But the dangerous illness 
of the king rendered Margaret so impa- 
tient that she set off without it, accom- 


MARGARET IN SPAIN. 103 

panied by a splendid train. Before 
reaching the Mediterranean she met the 
marshal bringing from the emperor a 
safe conduct for three months only. The 
time was short for all she had to accom- 
plish, but on such an errand she feared 
nothing, and refused to turn back on 
that account. By the liberation of Fran- 
cis she hoped also to effect that of the 
imprisoned servants of God' throughout 
France, for she could not believe that 
the king would sanction the enormities 
perpetrated in his absence by Duprat 
and her mother. Her own courage may 
be inferred from the following lines,. 
Avritten at that period : 

“Heaven’s heights cannot my passage stay, 

Nor powers of hell can bar my way ; 

My Saviour holds the keys of both.” 

When she reached the shores of the 
Mediterranean, a violent tempest made 
it impossible for her to embark. While 


104 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

waiting for the storm to subside, she 
wrote her brother on the day of em- 
barkation : 

“The bearer will tell you how the 
heavens, the sea, and the will of man 
have retarded my departure. But He 
alone to whom all things pay obedience 
has given such favorable weather that 
every difficulty is solved. I will not 
delay, either on account of my own 
security or of the sea, which is unset- 
tled at this season, to hasten towards 
the place where I may see you ; for fear 
of death, imprisonment, and every sort 
. of evil are now so habitual to me, that 
I hold lightly my life, health, glory, and 
honor, thinking by this means to share 
your fortune, which, if I had my desire, 
I would bear alone.” 

Having embarked at Aigues Mortes, 
the Duchess d’Alengon landed at Bar- 
celona, and went on at once to Madrid, 


MARGARET IN SPAIN. 105 

where she was met by the emperor, who 
proposed to escort her himself to the 
residence of ’her brother. Though well 
aware that this proposal was dictated by 
policy rather than kindness, the duchess 
was obliged to accept it with thanks. 
A fresh palfrey had been provided for 
her, and she mounted it at once, and 
rode through the streets of the city at 
the right hand of the emperor, who was 
attended by a brilliant suite. During 
this interview the tenderness of the 
woman so completely overpowered the 
vigor and energy of the diplomat that 
the astute emperor was deceived in her 
character. He had given her a favor- 
able account of the health of the invalid, 
but when she entered his apartment and 
saw the change wrought in him by the 
trials lie had borne, she threw herself 
into his arms and burst into a passionate 
flood of tears. 


14 


106 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

“Can this indeed be you, ma mig - 
nonne ?” exclaimed Francis, tenderly 
caressing her, heedless of the presence 
of the emperor. “ 0 Margaret, how 
dear, how inexpressibly welcome is this 
meeting — destined, perhaps, to be our 
last.” 

Margaret was by this time her own 
bright self again, and wiping away her 
tears, she replied with energy : 

“ And wherefore, mon ami , should it be 
so? Believe me, yours is a generous 
enemy, who will not even seek to resist 
my tears. He knows you have already 
suffered deeply in mind and body, and 
will not urge you further. You will see 
that my coming is the earnest of good 
fortune.” 

“I have already striven against my 
despair,” said Francis, gloomily. “I 
had even for a time dared to hope ; but 
I have learned much, very much, Mar- 


MARGAEET IN SPAIN. 107 

garet, since we parted, and there are 
some wounds of the heart which will 
never close.” 

The interview between the brother 
and sister was brief and unsatisfactory, 
for in the presence of Charles they could 
not speak freely ; and the emperor hav- 
ing bade his “good brother,” as he term- 
ed his royal prisoner, be of good cheer 
and trust his sincerity, offered to escort 
the princess to the residence which had 
been prepared for her, with the assur- 
ance that he was ready to accede to such 
terms of negotiation as might be accept- 
able to so welcome an ambassadress. 

Margaret was not deceived by these 
fair speeches, for she knew the wily 
nature of the man with whom she had 
to deal ; and when he had left her, she 
hastened to take counsel of the eminent 
statesmen who had accompanied her to 
Spain. They urged her, if possible, to 


108 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

form an acquaintance with the widowed 
queen Eleanora, sister of Charles, whom 
Francis had offered to marry, and who 
afterwards became his second wife. 
Queen Claude had died in the first year 
of her husband’s captivity, and soon 
after the departure of the princess for 
Spain, at the age of twenty-five, gladly 
exchanging the trials of her wedded life 
for the rest of the grave. 

The emperor, fearful of an intimacy 
between Margaret and Eleanora, sent 
the latter on a distant pilgrimage, from 
which she did not return until the duch- 
ess had left Spain. The delight felt by 
Margaret on being once more near her 
brother may be imagined from the fact 
that when she heard of his illness, she 
exclaimed, in the agony of her despair : 
“ Whoever shall announce to me the 
recovery of the king, that messenger, 
though he be heated, jaded, and sullied 


MARGARET IN SPAIN. 109 

by the filth of the roads oyer which he 
may have travelled, I will embrace and 
welcome as I would the proudest prince 
or nobleman of France. Should he have 
no bed on which to rest, I will give him 
mine, and sleep upon the boards, to rec- 
ompense him for the precious tidings he 
has brought me.” 

The brother and sister were permit- 
ted often to meet ; and in the society of 
his darling Margaret, Francis daily re- 
covered health and strength, though the 
depression of his spirits was at times 
so extreme that it amounted almost to 
despair. 

On the fourth of October the princess 
had her first official audience at court; 
and her extreme beauty, set off to advan- 
tage by the rich dress she wore, the 
strength of her intellect, her wit and 
eloquence, and the brave, uncompromi- 
sing spirit she displayed, made a deep 


110 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

impression on the emperor. He had 
delayed the conference, and even sought 
to avoid it altogether by leaving Madrid 
for Toledo ; but learning this, the prin- 
cess, receiving from Francis full power 
to act in his name, resolved to follow 
Charles to that city, attended only by 
M. Yilliers, grand master of the Knights 
of Malta. 

On her arrival at Toledo, she was 
received with a cold politeness that 
might have chilled a less ardent nature, 
but produced no such effect on Margaret 
of Yalois. When admitted to an audi- 
ence, she opened the subject in a firm 
and dignified manner, by demanding 
the decision at which the emperor had 
arrived. 

“Madame,” was the cool reply, “I 
have already submitted my conditions to 
the king, your brother.” 

“And by him, as your majesty well 


MARGARET IN SPAIN. Ill 

knows,” said the princess, ‘‘they were 
definitely declined. I have now, there- 
fore, only to learn your determination 
as to those which the king offers to con- 
cede.” 

‘ ‘ They are inadmissible, madame. The 
hand of my sister, the queen of Portugal, 
is pledged to the Duke of Bourbon, who 
alone can release it.” 

“But I am prepared, sire, to assure 
your majesty that the Duke of Bourbon 
will not persist in his claim, now that he 
knows the views of his sovereign. This 
difficulty is, therefore, at an end, and wo 
have only to discuss the remaining terms 
of the treaty.” 

1 1 1 have referred the whole matter to 
my ministers,” Charles replied, sullenly, 
“and in their hands I am resolved to 
leave it.” 

“And is this, sire,” she exclaimed 
indignantly, “indeed to be the result of 


112 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

all the fair promises yon have made my 
brother and myself, and by which you 
have sought to beguile us ? Are you, in 
truth, prepared to persevere in a course 
which must draw down upon you the 
contempt and abhorrence of all Chris- 
tendom? Have you forgotten that Fran- 
cis of France is your sovereign lord, and 
that you owe him homage for your Flem- 
ish provinces? Is a consciousness of 
your own temporary power to blind you 
to the fact that by your want of honor 
and good faith, you are alienating for 
ever the heart of the noblest sovereign 
in Europe, and converting him into an 
implacable enemy ? Surely your majes- 
ty cannot have considered these things, 
or you would see that the world will 
attribute to jealousy and fear so unheard- 
of a measure as that of detaining in cap- 
tivity a brother monarch. But should 
your prisoner, like the caged eagle, 


MARGARET IN SPAIN. 113 

droop and die behind the bars you have 
forged around him, you would not be 
safe from the vengeance of his succes- 
sors, for he has sons whose first and 
most sacred duty they will regard it to 
avenge their father’s wrongs.” 

“ I have on my side much to complain 
of at his hands, madam e,” replied the 
emperor. 

“Name your wrongs, sire, and they 
shall be redressed. Has he attempted 
to usurp your territories ? Has he met 
your open hostility with crafty policy 
and covert wrong ?” 

“These wranglings are useless, mad- 
ame,” exclaimed Charles, who was galled 
by the quick wit of the princess. “I 
have stated my terms, and more I will 
not concede.” 

“Iam ready, sire, to double the amount 
demanded for his ransom, as well as to 
ratify the other conditions proposed by 
15 


Margaret. 


114 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

himself. This is my boundary also, and 
one that I cannot overpass.” 

“ Then, madame,” said Charles, rising, 
‘‘ our conference is ended. The remain- 
der of this unhappy business must be 
arranged by my ministers, and in their 
hands I leave it.” 

The princess attempted to remonstrate, 
but received for answer only an imperi- 
ous bow, which left her no alternative 
but to withdraw. This she did as firmly 
and haughtily as she had entered the 
presence ; and leaving her counsellors to 
discuss the question with those of the em- 
peror, returned at once to Madrid, to take 
leave of the king, as the time mentioned 
in her safe-conduct had nearly expired. 

She was now fully convinced that 
there was nothing to be expected from 
the good feeling of Charles, and accord- 
ingly resolved, if possible, herself to 
effect the escape of the royal prisoner. 


MARGARET IN SPAIN. 115 

After revolving a multitude of schemes, 
at length she decided on one, of which 
the courage and ingenuity manifested 
her own indomitable spirit. 

Among the few attendants of Francis 
was a negro, whose duty it was to sup- 
ply the apartments with fuel. This man, 
who had a striking resemblance to the 
king in height and figure, was fixed upon 
by Madame d’Alengon as her assistant 
in carrying out her plan ; and she suc- 
ceeded in winning his confidence so en- 
tirely, that he declared himself ready to 
undertake any thing she wished, how- 
ever great the danger. 

It was arranged by Margaret, that so 
soon as preparation could be made, she 
should take formal leave of her brother, 
and that at dusk on the same day the 
negro should carry in his usual allow- 
ance of wood, Francis in the meantime 
having stained his face and hands with 


116 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

a deep dye. He was then to exchange 
clothes with his deliverer, who was to 
take his bed as if overcome with the 
parting from his sister ; while the cap- 
tive was to leave the castle and rejoin 
Madame d’Alen^on and her friends, by 
whom every possible precaution had 
been taken to insure success. 

This promising plan was frustrated 
almost at the last moment by the treach- 
ery of one of the king’s French attend- 
ants. Having conceived himself insulted 
by a gentleman of the bed-chamber, he 
complained loudly to the king, who, ab- 
sorbed in his own projects, and believing 
the whole to be a temporary misunder- 
standing, treated the matter lightly, and 
dismissed it without inquiry. The en- 
raged valet hastened to Toledo, and in 
the first burst of passion disclosed to 
the emperor the plan of escape, giving 
the names of all connected with it. 


MAEGAEET IN SPAIN. 117 

Charles treated the thing coolly, ex- 
pressing his surprise that the king should 
have degraded himself by such a design ; 
but he gave private orders to the cap- 
tain of the guard, which rendered it 
impossible that the attempt should be 
renewed. The king was watched by 
night and by day, while he was deprived 
of the services of his most devoted and 
faithful servants. 

Meanwhile the Duchess d’Alengon, 
who waited from day to day, hoping for 
some concession from the emperor, was 
secretly warned that her safe-conduct 
would not much longer avail her, and 
that Charles had determined to arrest 
her if found in Spain an hour beyond 
the time specified in the document, as 
he hoped in this way to obtain better 
terms from the king. Shocked and in- 
dignant, Margaret ordered her escort to 
make the necessary preparations, and set 


118 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

forth in the midst of winter, in spite of 
the unusual severity of the weather. She 
sent a trusty messenger to the governor 
of Narbonne, on the frontier, requesting 
him to meet her at Salces with a body 
of armed men. Travelling night and 
day, she reached Roussillon in eight 
days, though the journey usually took 
twice that time ; and riding into the town 
at nightfall on the very day on which 
her safe-conduct expired, she saw the 
Spanish troops, who had for some days 
followed her at a distance, turn sullenly 
away, unable to compete for the prize 
with the body of soldiers by whom she 
was surrounded. 


QUEEN OF NAVAIlllE. 


119 


IX. 


JVLaRGARET, C^UEEN OF J^AYARRE. 

The Ducliess (TAlen^on left Spain in 
December, and one month afterwards 
Francis, who despaired of obtaining his 
liberty in any other way, signed a treaty 
by which he pledged himself to agree to 
all the hard conditions imposed by the 
emperor. By the terms of the treaty, 
the king was to marry Eleanor of Por- 
tugal, while his sister Margaret was to 
give her hand to Charles Duke of Bour- 
bon, who, for real or fancied grievances, 
had renounced his allegiance to Francis, 
and taken up arms against his country 
in the service of the emperor. Some of 
the finest provinces of France were ceded 
to the Spanish crown, and the two eldest 
sons of the king were to be given up as 


120 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

hostages for the fulfilment of the treaty. 
Before subscribing to these humiliating 
conditions, the king called his friends 
together and declared to them that, as 
he was forced under restraint to sign 
this document, he regarded it as null 
and void, and should never fulfil its 
conditions. 

In February, 1527, he left Spain, and 
on reaching the frontier, had only time 
to embrace his sons, who were given up 
to the guards by whom he was accom- 
panied ; then taking horse, he rode rap- 
idly to Bayonne, where his mother and 
sister were awaiting his arrival. The 
joy of Margaret, though intense, was 
modified by the thought of her two help- 
less nephews now in the hands of their 
father’s enemy, and by the enfeebled 
health of the king, whose oncer powerful 
frame betrayed the fearful inroads which 
captivity and disease had made upon it. 


QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 121 

A few months after the return of 
Francis, Cardinal Wolsey came as am- 
bassador from Henry VIII. of England, 
to demand the hand of Margaret of Va- 
lois for that monarch, who had resolved 
on divorcing his blameless wife, Katha- 
rine of Aragon. When this project was 
announced to him, the cheek of Francis 
flushed, and his brow grew dark. 

“ Your eminence is not, perhaps, 
aware,” he replied, “ that the hand of 
Madame d’Alengon is promised to the 
Duke de Bourbon.” 

“Yes, but your majesty cannot pos- 
sibly contemplate such an alliance,” 
persisted the cardinal. “The king of 
France would assuredly never bestow 
his sister in marriage upon a traitor.” 

“I have in truth no such intention,” 
was the' cold reply. “ Nevertheless, 
until the engagement shall have been 
dissolved she is no longer free. Where 
16 


122 MARGARET OF NAYARRE. 

there exists a previous and still unbro- 
ken tie, no new bond can be valid . 77 

The cardinal bit his lip. “The duchess 
herself may refuse to ratify a pledge given 
without her sanction / 7 he said cautiously. 

“Her refusal will in that case suf- 
fice / 7 replied Francis, “for I will never 
consent to sacrifice her happiness to any 
consideration of state policy. All I can 
do, therefore, monseigneur, is to refer 
you to the .Duchess d 7 Alen§on herself. 
Let her decide . 77 

“I can ask no more / 7 said the haughty 
cardinal, with a bow and smile. “The 
crown of England and the hand of its 
young and chivalrous monarch can 
scarcely be rejected by one of the 
proud blood of Valois . 77 

But the cardinal was premature in his 
boast, for when the alliance was pro- 
posed to Margaret, it was rejected by 
her with the utmost disdain. 


QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 123 

“Katharine of Aragon, your injured 
queen,” she said to Wolsey, “was the 
friend of my dear and gentle sister 
Queen Claude, and for her sake, if for 
no other, I should spurn your proposal. 
But not for worlds would I be accessory 
to an act of injustice like that which 
you contemplate ; and certainly I could 
never trust my happiness in the hands 
of a man who is stained with such a 
crime.” 

In vain the cardinal declared to her 
that the delicacy of his sovereign’s con- 
science alone induced him to consent to 
the divorce. Margaret’s lip curled as 
she replied : 

“When conscience has slept so long, 
it would seem desirable that it should 
never have awakened, since the break- 
ing of a fond and faithful heart is the 
result.” 

Evidently there was nothing to be 


124 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

made of the Duchess d’Alen^on, and 
Francis was congratulating himself on 
having escaped by her means from the 
dilemma in which he was placed, when 
the cardinal suggested that, instead of 
his sister’s hand, he might bestow that 
of the young princess Renee, sister of 
the deceased queen, upon Henry. Thus 
urged, Francis returned an instant and 
decided refusal to this proposition, for 
such an alliance would weaken ’ if not 
destroy his claim on the rich province 
of Brittany which in right of her mother 
appertained to Renee. Baffled and in- 
dignant, the cardinal returned to Eng- 
land, only to find that Henry had 
resolved on espousing Anne Boleyn, 
and was therefore indifferent to the fail- 
ure of his ambassador in securing the 
hand of a French princess. 

The same year that brought back her 
brother from Spain was destined to wit- 


QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 125 

ness a still more important change in 
the condition of the Duchess d’Alengon. 
The young king of Navarre, Henry 
d’Albret II., ventured to make propo- 
sals for the hand of the fascinating prin- 
cess, and to the surprise of all the court 
they were accepted by the monarch. 
Probably Francis hoped by this alliance 
to retain not only his personal influence 
over Margaret, but also her presence in 
his dominions, as King Henry held all 
his possessions excepting Bearn as fiefs 
of the French empire, for which he did 
homage to the king. Margaret herself 
seems hardly to have been consulted, 
though such was her devotion to her 
brother that, except in matters of faith, 
she never opposed or questioned his will. 

The king of Navarre was young and 
of fine personal appearance ; his bravery 
was undoubted ; and he admired Mar- 
garet with all the strength of his nature. 


126 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

But he was at times moody, irritable, 
and jealous, and, like the Duke d’Alen- 
9011, incapable of appreciating the shining 
qualities of his bride. Still, Margaret 
was far from feeling toward him the 
aversion she had experienced for the 
duke, and in time, as her influence 
moulded in some degree his character, 
she became content if not happy. 

The first two years of her wedded life 
were spent chiefly in France, as the de- 
clining health of Madame d’Angouleme 
rendered it impossible for her daugh- 
ter to leave her permanently. Henry 
d’Albret was at that time a devoted 
Romanist, and there was only one sub- 
ject on which the two young sovereigns 
were cordially united ; this was, the 
amelioration of the condition of their 
people ; and in this they were so suc- 
cessful, notwithstanding their long ab- 
sence from Navarre, that 4 ‘the good 


QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 127 

queen” Margaret became the idol of the 
people. 

At this period, though deprived of 
the friends and teachers whom she 
trusted, the queen of Navarre received 
comfort and encouragement from an un- 
expected source. 

Count Sigismund of Haute France, a 
nobleman of Strasburg, had heard the 
truth from Luther, and receiving it into 
a good and honest heart, resolved to live 
henceforth in accordance with the will 
of God. Educated with more care than 
most of the noblemen of that period, he 
spoke the French language fluently, and 
as he was a personal friend of Marga- 
ret, conceived the idea of introducing 
through her the gospel into France. 
Accordingly, whenever he obtained a 
new work from Luther, he had it trans- 
lated and forwarded at once to the queen 
of Navarre. He also wrote the German 


128 MAEGAEET OF NAVAEEE. 

reformer, begging him, in the multitude 
of' ' his labors, to send a letter of friend- 
ship and sympathy to Margaret, whose 
influence in France was of so much im- 
portance to the good cause. In truth, 
the queen greatly needed such encour- 
agement. Since the return of her brother 
from Spain, he had given himself up to 
luxury and dissipation, leaving to his 
ministers the care of public affairs. Per- 
secution was rife in city and country; 
and he who preached the gospel in its 
purity did so at the hazard of his life. 

Pierre Toussaint, a prebendary of 
Metz, and one of Margaret’s favorite 
preachers, was an active laborer in the 
vineyard of the Lord after his brethren 
had been driven into exile. On one oc- 
casion, when Toussaint chanced to pass 
through the diocese of the abbot of St. 
Antoine, the merciless priest seized the 
young evangelist, and in spite of the 


QUEEN OF NAVABKE. 129 

excellence of his character and his bro- 
ken health, immured him in a frightful 
dungeon, full of filth and stagnant water. 
In this den, hardly high enough to ena- 
ble him to stand upright, with his back 
against the wall and his feet on the only 
spot free from water, Toussaint spent the 
weary days and nights of imprisonment, 
half starved, and stifled by the poison- 
ous vapor that filled the dungeon. What 
a contrast between this cell and his own 
cheerful home in Metz, or the magnifi- 
cent palace of the cardinal of Lorraine, 
where he had been treated as a son be- 
fore he became a heretic. 

The friends of Toussaint, learning his 
dreadful condition, lost no time in making 
it known to their illustrious patroness, 
who immediately went from Fontaine- 
bleau, where she was residing with her 
mother, to Paris, and throwing herself 

at the feet of her brother, besought him 
17 


Margaret. 


130 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

with tears to save this innocent victim 
of priestly tyranny. 

“I know nothing about it, mignonne” 
the king replied, “and leave these things 
to the church ; but if he were ten times 
a heretic, I cannot have you disturbed 
about it. Take your own course, res- 
cue this lamb of yours from the wolves, 
but remember that where heresy is con- 
cerned there is a limit even to my power 
of serving and pleasing you. In aught 
else you may always command me.” 

When Toussaint came out of his prison, 
he was wasted almost to a shadow, and 
so weak that his tottering limbs could 
hardly support him. He looked around 
him in vain for friends. No one dared 
to own a heretic who had so narrowly 
escaped the scaffold. In this emergency 
he went boldly to Paris, sought out the 
queen of Navarre, and found an asylum 
with her. 


QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 131 

The beautiful young queen was sur- 
rounded with noble and distinguished 
personages, all eager to pay court to 
one who, in reality, shared the diadem 
with the king. 

“ Side by side with princes and am- 
bassadors dressed in the most costly 
garments, and soldiers in their glittering 
uniform, were cardinals robed in scar- 
let and ermine, bishops with their satin 
copes, # ecclesiastics of every order with 
long gowns and tonsured heads.” These 
churchmen, desirous of winning the favor 
of Margaret, spoke to her of the gospel 
and the necessity of reform, of the move- 
ment in Germany, and its commence- 
ment in France. 

When Toussaint first heard this kind 
of discourse, he listened with wonder 
and hope, believing it the dawn of a 
better day. But he learned too soon 
that this religious prattle meant noth- 


132 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

ing, and was only intended to deceive 
the princess. He wrote to Lefevre and 
Roussel, entreating them to assist him in 
unmasking the hypocrites, and in preach- 
ing the truth to a giddy and corrupt 
court. In return, they exhorted him to 
be patient, lest by premature action he 
should ruin every thing. 

“Yes , 77 he replied, weeping as he 
wrote, “be wise after your fashion — 
wait, put off, dissemble ; you will have 
to acknowledge at last that there is no 
such thing as preaching the gospel with- 
out bearing the cross. The banner of 
divine mercy is now raised, the gate 
stands wide open, God calls us. He 
does not mean us to receive his sum- 
mons with supineness. W e must hasten, 
lest the opportunity escape us, and the 
door be shut . 77 

Toussaint was stifled in the atmo- 
sphere of the court. The air seemed to 


QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 133 

him closer and more oppressive even 
than that of his den at St. Antoine’s ; 
and though Margaret was kindness itself, 
he found it impossible to remain in Paris. 
Turning his back therefore on the mag- 
nificent offers made to him if he would 
connect himself with the “progressive” 
wing of the Romish church, Toussaint 
quitted France, with a fervent prayer 
that, in the struggle which he saw ap- 
proaching, his beloved country might 
be found on the side of the truth. 


134 


MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 


X. 

p JJew J-ife at J^ontainebleau. 

On the 7th of January, 1529, Marga- 
ret of Navarre became a mother; and 
the new life thus given her of God proved 
to be one of more importance to his in- 
fant church even than that from which 
it sprung. Jeanne d’Albret, afterwards 
the unfortunate but illustrious queen of 
Navarre, was born in the old palace of 
Fontainebleau, where her mother was 
residing in retirement with Madame 
d’Angouleme, while her husband was 
absent transacting important business 
for his brother-in-law the king. For 
months the health of Margaret had oc- 
casioned serious alarm to her royal rel- 
atives. A constant cough had harassed 


NEW LIFE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 135 

her day; and night, and for the first time 
in her life her spirits were so much 
depressed that her health was impaired 
by it. 

There were many reasons for the 
depression of the queen. She was una- 
voidably separated from her brother at 
a time when more than ever lie needed 
her restraining and guiding influence, 
surrounded as he was by treacherous 
and interested courtiers, and exposed 
to the seductions of his unprincipled 
mistress, the Duchess d’Etampes, in 
whose hands the king was as wax, to 
take any impression she chose. Public 
affairs were all going wrong, and her 
two young nephews, the dauphin and 
the Duke of Orleans, were still detained 
by the emperor in close captivity. 

All these causes of anxiety preyed 
upon the queen, and the friends who 
would have exhorted her to have trust 


136 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

and confidence in God were far away, 
forbidden to approach their native land. 

A few days before the expected event 
she wrote thus to her brother : 

“ I assure you, monseigneur, that the 
fear I feel'' at the result of my approach- 
ing trial, which I dread as much as for 
many reasons I earnestly desire it, is 
almost converted into confidence and 
hope, seeing my sorrow so affects you 
that to relieve it you would even sacri- 
fice the health so dear to me, and in 
comparison with which I esteem my 
health as nothing. Believe me, I can- 
not endure pain so great as that which 
would befall me should any harm hap- 
pen to you. I trust God will permit 
me to see you before my hour arrives ; 
but if this happiness is not to be mine, 
I will cause your letter to be read to 
me, since, being written by your hand, 
it cannot fail to inspire me with courage. 


NEW LIFE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 137 

I shall to the last eagerly expect your 
much-desired arrival.” 

Margaret’s fond wish was not destined 
to be gratified. The pressure of public 
affairs rendered it impossible for the 
king to leave Paris ; but he sent his two 
principal physicians to remain with his 
sister till she was convalescent, though 
his own failing health required their 
constant attendance. 

After the birth of the princess Jeanne 
a courier was at once despatched with 
the intelligence to Francis, by whom it 
was received with a transport of joy, 
for his anxiety had been excessive. He 
wrote a long letter of congratulation to 
Margaret, assuring her that his infant 
niece should hold the same place in his 
affection and care as his own daughters, 
Madelaine and Margaret de France ; a 
promise which he afterwards faithfully 
kept. 


18 


138 MARGARET OF NAYAEEE. 

The king of Navarre was staying at 
Bonrges at the time of his daughter’s 
birth, when he was informed by a mis- 
sive from Madame d’Angoul^me of the 
event and of the safety of the queen. 
Never was intelligence received with 
more thankful pleasure, for the state of 
Margaret’s health had given him the 
greatest solicitude for many months. 
He presented the messenger with a 
magnificent diamond ring, assuring him 
that such news would be cheaply pur- 
chased by the loss of half his posses- 
sions. 

Margaret’s faithful friend, Aymee de 
la Fayette, baillive de Caen, was ap- 
pointed governess to the infant princess. 
At a very early period of her existence 
Jeanne manifested symptoms of the en- 
ergy and firmness for which she was in 
in after-life so celebrated, and the royal 
mother, during her own convalescence, 


NEW LIFE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 139 

was cheered by daily reports of the vig- 
orous health and beauty of the little 
princess. When nine days old, Jeanne, 
contrary to the wish of her mother, 
was privately christened in the chapel 
of the Holy Trinity, at Fontainebleau. 
Her sponsors were King Francis, 
the Duchess d’Angouleme, and, on the 
part of the king of Navarre, Mad- 
ame Isabel d’Albret, Henry’s favorite 
sister. 

Margaret was compelled to sacrifice 
her own private wishes in thus commit- 
ting her babe to the spiritual care of 
the Romish church ; but in this, as in 
every thing else, the will of Francis was 
all-powerful, and she could only pray in 
secret that her own watchful care and 
the instruction she could give, might 
avail to counteract the influence of the 
step then taken. The prayer was heard 
and answered. When the babe was a 


140 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

month old she was committed to the 
sole charge of Madame de la Fayette, 
who departed from Fontainebleau to 
Lou ray, a castle near the town of Alen- 
9011, and the usual residence of the bail- 
live, when not in attendance on her royal 
mistress. The constitution of the little 
Jeanne was strong and healthy, and her 
temperament one of unusual vigor and 
activity. Her courage surprised every 
one ; and her frolicsome disposition kept 
her governess in a perpetual state of 
excitement. 

In accordance with the wise injunc- 
tions of Margaret, none of the vexatious 
restrictions which then surrounded chil- 
dren of royal parentage were suffered 
to depress the joyous spirits of the little 
Jeanne. Her childhood was spent in 
happy companionship with the children 
of her governess, and she never dreamed 
of claiming any preeminence over her 


NEW LIFE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 141 

young playfellows, only as it was the 
natural result of the superior force of 
character and energy of purpose for 
which she was even then distinguished. 
Living at a distance from the court, she 
suffered no injury from the homage which 
would there have attended the daughter 
of the brilliant Margaret, child as she 
was ; while her principles were care- 
fully guarded from the shock of early 
acquaintance with the profligacy of the 
courtiers. 

It was the daily delight of the princely 
child to sit at the feet of her governess 
and listen to the stories which she loved 
to tell her of her royal mother, of her 
loveliness, her goodness, and the ardent 
affection felt for the queen by all who 
knew her. She told her of Margaret’s 
kindness to the poor and suffering, of 
the protection afforded by her to the 
persecuted reformers, and of her visit 


142 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

to Spain to procure the release of the 
king from captivity. As the child lis- 
tened, her bosom would swell, her large 
dark eyes glisten with unshed tears, 
until, starting up, she would exclaim : 

“Do, dear madame, help me to be- 
come worthy of such a mother. I can- 
not hope to be like her, but never, 
never shall she have cause to blush for 
her child.” 

From infancy veneration for her . moth- 
er became a leading trait in Jeanne’s 
character, and influenced the most im- 
portant events of her future life. 

But the happiest seasons ever known 
by the little Jeanne were those in which 
the queen of Navarre, quitting the court, 
took up her abode in the castle of Alen- 
9011, to be near her child. As she saw 
her approaching, Jeanne would bound 
into the arms of her beautiful and gifted 
mother, and exclaim in the intensity of 


NEW LIFE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 143 

delight: “lam so happy, I think I could 
die.” 

Hand in hand, the mother and child 
wandered through the charming grounds 
of Louray ; while Margaret, forgetting 
the world and its cares, was herself once 
more a child in the garden of Amboise, 
describing to her daughter those bygone 
scenes so vividly that they seemed actu- 
ally passing before her. From her 
mother, Jeanne imbibed that ardent 
affection for her royal uncle, which en- 
abled her afterwards to submit without 
a murmur to his will, even when it cross- 
ed the most cherished purposes of her 
life. 

While the princess was still in early 
childhood, she had the happiness of em- 
bracing an infant brother, who, like her- 
self, was placed under the guardianship 
of the bail live of Caen. The child seem- 
ed at first healthy and promising; but 


144 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

to the grief of his parents, he died at the 
age of five months, at the castle of Alen- 
£on, in the arms of Queen Margaret. 
By this sad event the princess became 
once more the heiress presumptive of 
Navarre and B6arn, though it would 
have been well for her future peace had 
this fair heritage passed away from her 
in her happy infancy. 

Jeanne d’Albret resided at Lour ay 
until she had completed her fifth year, 
and during that time she made frequent 
visits to her uncle at St. Germain's, 
where the court was then residing. 
Francis, who dearly loved the beautiful 
and spirited child, loaded her with 
caresses, and so petted and indulged 
her that, but for the nobleness of her 
disposition, she must have been spoiled. 

Her father, too, was both fond and 
proud of his gifted child, and was never 
weary of watching her infantine sports. 


NEW LIFE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 145 

But it was the sad fate of Henry to find 
in his brother-in-law a rival in the affec- 
tions of those nearest and dearest to 
him; for the little Jeanne, won by the 
kindness of her royal uncle, loved him 
passionately, and a burst of tears testi- 
fied her displeasure when her little arms 
were unclasped from his neck, and she 
was compelled to leave his presence. 
The child, thus made the pet and play- 
thing of her father and uncle, was dis- 
tinguished at court by the name of u la 
mignonne des rois,” “the darling of 
kings •” and the highest nobles of the 
kingdom requested as a special favor 
that their daughters might be selected 
as companions for the young princess. 

After the death of the Duchess dAn- 
gouleme, which took place in 1532, 
Margaret and her husband resolved to 
leave France for a time, in order to 
reside in their own dominions at Pan. 


Margaret. 


19 


14G MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

Henry’s frequent residence at St. G-er- 
main’s was a necessity which, though 
imposed upon him by his marriage, he 
found intolerably irksome. His self-love 
was wounded by a sense of dependence 
on the will of another, while he felt that 
his royal rank hardly gave him prece- 
dence over the proud and wealthy aris- 
tocracy of France. In Navarre he was 
a king ; in Paris he was only one amid a 
crowd of courtiers. 

Besides this there was another fruit- 
ful source of annoyance to the king of 
Navarre. Francis, jealous of any other 
control than his own over his beloved 
sister, resented deeply every attempt on 
the part of Henry to exercise any kind 
of conjugal influence over her actions. 
While she dwelt in the royal halls of 
the Yalois, the king would not permit 
“ la Marguerite des Marguerites ” — “the 
pearl of pearls” — to acknowledge any 


NEW LIFE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 147 

other will than his own ; and in carrying 
out this decision, his encroachments on 
the rights of Henry as a husband and a 
king were frequent and vexatious. 

Placed thus between the two, the sit- 
uation of Margaret was embarrassing; 
but her sweetness of disposition and ex- 
quisite tact enabled her to preserve the 
love and confidence of both husband 
and brother. Still she was weary of 
the struggle, and gave a cordial assent 
to her husband’s proposition of paying a 
visit to their dominions, though the per- 
mission of Francis was only obtained 
after long and repeated entreaties on 
her part. As the queen intended to 
remain for many months in Bearn, she 
naturally wished to take with her the 
princess Jeanne, that she might present 
her to her future subjects. This request 
was met by the king with a refusal so 
decided that Margaret gave up the point, 


148 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

sacrificing maternal feeling to the sisterly 
affection which had been through life her 
ruling passion. But it was not simply 
devotion to his will that actuated her in 
accepting his decision. She was well 
aware of the advantages which must fol- 
low this virtual adoption of the young 
princess by the king, and felt that her 
education would advance more rapidly 
in France than in her own court of 
Bearn. 

But if Margaret acquiesced in the de- 
cision of Francis, her husband was far 
from doing the same. He was certain 
that the motive which prompted the king 
in this arbitrary act of separating an 
only child from her parents was distrust 
of his fidelity to the interests of France. 
The king feared lest Henry might en- 
ter into negotiations with the emperor 
Charles, who claimed and held Lower 
Navarre, in order that by the union of 


NEW LIFE AT FONTAINEBLEAU. 149 

Jeanne with Prince Philip of Spain, all 
this rich heritage of Bearn, Upper and 
Lower Navarre, with the principalities 
belonging to them, might fall to the 
Spanish crown. 

To such a step, Francis would sooner 
die than give his consent ; and to avert 
all danger, he resolved to retain the 
princess in his own dominions until he 
could bestow her hand on some one of 
his own selection. In order to soften 
the harshness of this decision, the king 
informed Henry that he intended to be- 
stow the princess in marriage on his 
second son, Henry of Orleans, who 
afterwards married the infamous Cath- 
arine de Medicis. This proposal was 
acceptable to both parents, and the 
royal relatives parted in kindness, though 
the heart of the little Jeanne was almost 
broken by the enforced separation from 
her idolized mother. 


150 


MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 


XI. 

'y EE J^ALACE OME, 

With a heart which grew lighter at 
every step as she entered her husband’s 
hereditary dominions, Margaret of Va- 
lois at length reached Bearn, and took 
up her abode in the castle of Pau. It was 
an immense, but irregular pile, which had 
been long deserted ; and though the state 
apartments were in tolerable preserva- 
tion, many portions of the castle showed 
plainly that the hand of time had been 
busy with their adornings. The first 
care of the sovereigns was, to enlarge 
and embellish this royal abode, fitting 
it up in a manner worthy of its past his- 
tory and of the fair queen whose resi- 
dence it had now become. Around it 


THE PALACE HOME. 151 

they laid out magnificent gardens, in 
which, following her own good taste 
rather than the fashion of the time, 
Margaret suffered the wildness of na- 
ture to appear side by side with the 
perfection of art. 

The mountainous principality of Bearn, 
stretching along the northern side of the 
Pyrenees, contains some of the most 
fertile and picturesque scenery that Eu- 
rope can boast. The mountains dividing 
France from Spain form a gigantic bul- 
wark, by which nature has marked the 
boundary of each land ; and though this 
immense chain is broken only b} r nar- 
row and difficult passes, yet the ridges 
which it sends off like buttresses into 
the plain country are intersected by 
wide and beautiful valleys, rich with all 
the gifts of summer, and glowing with 
the loveliness of perpetual fertility. 

The castle of Pau was situated on 


152 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

rising ground above the river Gave, 
and overlooked the splendid scenery 
around on every side. The broad val- 
ley of the Gave, with its rich carpet of 
verdure, the river dashing in liquid dia- 
monds over rocks and miniature preci- 
pices; the dark shadows of the pine for- 
ests that clothed each giant hill, and in 
the background, the long, wavy outline 
of the purple mountains, with here and 
there an icy peak lifting its glittering 
head — all this was spread out before 
the eye from the castle terrace, offering 
in one grand view a thousand forms of 
beauty. 

The most skilful artisans and agricul- 
turists of France were invited by Mar- 
garet to Bearn, that the Bearnois, who 
were a hardy and faithful, though ignor- 
ant people, might learn the true value 
of the soil on which they labored. She 
went herself among the peasantry, heard 


THE PALACE HOME. 153 

their simple stories of want and oppres- 
sion, gave them such counsel as they 
needed, and with her own hands often 
ministered to their necessities. 

Nor was this all. The true spiritual 
life of Margaret may be said to have 
commenced at Bearn. Hitherto her 
stature as a Christian had been dwarfed 
by her position at the French court; 
and above all, by her unquestioning 
devotion to the will of the king. Now 
she stood alone ; for though Henry loved 
her too well to oppose her in any thing, 
he was still a member of the Romish 
church, and would give her no assist- 
ance in the work of reform. But Mar- 
garet of Valois was of a nature to be 
stimulated rather than discouraged by 
seeming obstacles. Such of the reformed 
clergy as could be reached by her were 
cordially welcomed to her territories ; 
and Gerard Roussel was made bishop 

23 


154 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

of Oleron, while the aged Lefevre was 
taken to her palace home, and treated 
with the respect and reverence due to a 
father. 

Not content with the steps thus taken, 
the queen caused the Latin prayers of 
the church to be translated into French ; 
and when the work was finished, she 
sent copies to Francis, and distributed 
them among the courtiers, who received 
them gladly. But when the doctors of 
the Sorbonne heard of this daring inno- 
vation, they condemned it at once as 
heretical, prohibiting the sale or use of 
the book by a decree of the Parliament. 
Margaret also published a poem enti- 
tled, “The Mirror of a Sinful Soul,” 
which was immediately condemned by 
the Sorbonne, and the copies saved from 
burning only by the express command 
of the king, who was always on the alert 
to ward off persecution from his beloved 


THE PALACE HOME. 155 

sister. Some of the fanatical students 
were so enraged by the poem that they 
got up a “ mystery,” as dramatic, enter 
tainments of a certain kind were then 
called, in which the queen of Navarre 
was made to figure as a fury from hell. 
Justly indignant at this insolence, Fran- 
cis sent his archer guard to arrest the 
culprits, and but for the intercession of 
Margaret in their behalf, it would have 
been long ere they obtained a pardon. 

In her little kingdom of Bearn, the 
queen found a soil in which the good 
seed of the word took deep root, and 
sprang up, bearing fruit abundantly. 
The simple and honest hearts of the 
peasantry opened to receive the truth 
as the thirsty earth drinks in the rain 
of heaven ; and among the nobility of 
that province there were few who did 
not yield either to the fascinations of 
Margaret or the eloquence of her preach* 


15G MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

ers, though Upper Navarre, Foix, Bi- 
gorre, and the other counties comprised 
in her kingdom were still under the 
spiritual domination of the Romish see. 

But while Margaret lent all the weight 
of her example and her influence to ad- 
vance the cause of reform, she was not 
insensible to the claims of art' and liter- 
ature. Her court, held at Pau and 
Nerac, rivalled that of Francis in wit 
and learning, if not in splendor. The 
most beautiful and intellectual women 
of the age gathered about her, as well 
as the noblest and most gifted men. In 
her saloons one found all the aristocracy 
of talent, all the nobility of intellect. 
Scholars, poets, musicians, and painters 
were her courtiers, and most graciously 
and royally she repaid their homage. 

Her valets de chambre were such men 
as Clement Marot, Des Periers, Antoine 
du Moulin, and Jean de la ITaye — schol- 


THE PALACE HOME. 157 

ars who won for her saloons the title of 
the “New Parnassus,” a name they well 
deserved, where every art and science 
had its altar and its votary. 

Thus far Margaret had gone forward 
in her plans of usefulness and benevo- 
lence with the passive acquiescence, if 
not the cooperation, of her husband. 
But she was now to feel once more the 
instability of all earthly enjoyment. 
Henry d’Albret, who had for some time 
manifested a growing dislike to the doc- 
trines and the persons of the reformed 
preachers, now became furiously angry, 
and reproached his wife in such insult- 
ing terms, that she was compelled to 
appeal to the authority and support of 
her brother. It is said that he even 
forgot his manhood and the dignity of 
his station so far as to raise his hand 
against the unoffending queen, and that 
the actual presence of the French king 


158 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

was necessary to protect her from fur- 
ther violence. 

If this were so, no symptoms of an 
unforgiving disposition on her part were 
visible now, for she refused to leave him, 
though urged to do so by her brother, 
and would not suffer Francis to depart 
without a full and free forgiveness of 
her offending husband. 

This magnanimous conduct produced 
a powerful effect on the heart of the 
king of Navarre. He began for the first 
time to feel an interest in the opinions 
of his wife ; and ere long was induced to 
take part in her religious exercises — to 
read the gospels, to assist in the psalms, 
to listen to the sermons of the preachers, 
and even to receive the sacrament, ad- 
ministered privately in one of the vaults 
of the castle. The conversion of the 
king, even if superficial, was of service 
to Margaret, by enabling her to pursue 


THE PALACE HOME. 159 

her beneficent career without hinder- 
ance ; and during the remainder of her 
life she never again had occasion to com- 
plain of the neglect or cruelty of her 
husband. 

Such a change as that wrought in the 
king of Navarre could not be. expected 
to escape the prying eyes of the Romish 
priesthood, and the cardinals of Armag- 
nac and Grammont hastened to Paris 
to inform Francis of the state of things 
in Bearn. The king would gladly have 
dismissed the complaint, but he dared 
not thus brave the power of the church, 
and was compelled to summon Margaret 
to his presence, that she might, if possi- 
ble, justify her course. 

Margaret instantly obeyed the sum- 
mons, and proceeded to Paris, where she 
was received coldly and even sternly by 
the king; but she knew her influence 
over him too well to lose her courage 


160 MAEGABET OF NAVAEKE. 

even in sucli an emergency. She replied 
to his accusations with such admirable 
tact and self-possession, that at the close 
of the interview he declared his full be- 
lief in her innocence, and refused even 
to listen to the arguments of her ene- 
mies. Had she been less beloved, her 
peril would have been great ; for, from 
the pope down to the mendicant monk, 
there was not one of the Romish clergy 
by whom she was not dreaded and hated 
as the great patroness of heresy. 

Warned by her narrow escape, the 
queen from that time avoided all discus- 
sion with the Catholic priesthood, and 
even went so far as to endow hospitals, 
found orphan-asylums, and give largely 
to the poor, under the auspices of the 
priests. Farther than this she never 
went. She still maintained a constant 
correspondence with Calvin and Farel, 
and assisted Marot in his translation of 


THE PALACE HOME. 161 

the Psalms, quietly encouraging the work 
of reform wherever it was possible to do 
so, and by her letters to Erasmus and 
other celebrated scholars, undermining 
the power of the papacy just so far as 
her influence extended. 

The next visit of Margaret to the 
court of her brother was made on the 
occasion of his marriage to Eleanora of 
Portugal, sister of the Emperor Charles. 
The dauphin and his brother, who had 
been retained in Spain since the release 
of Francis, were ransomed at two mill- 
ions of golden crowns, and accompanied 
the royal bride to her new home. She 
was met by Francis at a convent near 
Mont Marsan, and having been briefly 
and coldly welcomed by him, was re- 
quested to prepare for the marriage cer- 
emony, which took place before dawn on 
the following morning, with a haste and 
careless disregard of ceremony strangely 
21 


Margaret. 


162 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

at variance with, the habits of the mon- 
arch or his court. 

The coronation of the queen took place 
on the 5th of March at St. Denis, and 
her public entry into Paris followed on 
the 15tli, at which time she first received 
the honors due to her rank. 

At the palace of the Tournelles she 
met for the first time her new sister the 
queen of Navarre, and amid all the splen- 
dor with which she was surrounded, 
turned at once to her as the one friend 
on whom she might implicitly rely. 
Queen of one of the first kingdoms of 
Europe, and the bride of a magnificent 
sovereign, Eleanora seemed raised to 
the summit of earthly prosperity ; but 
she was far from happy, and her melan- 
choly was visible to all. She had been 
deeply wounded by the coldness of her 
reception in France, so different from 
that demanded by the chivalric spirit of 


THE PALACE HOME. 163 

the age ; but though stung by the indig- 
nities to which she had been subjected, 
she had felt no surprise. During his 
residence at Madrid Francis had treated 
her with marked coldness, and she well 
knew that her hand had been forced upon 
her reluctant bridegroom by his triumph- 
ant rival. Even now, in the first days 
of their union, his indifference was so 
marked, that she seemed desolate and 
alone in the midst of a crowd. Still 
her Spanish pride sustained her ; and if 
at times unbidden tears would start, she 
forced them back, assuming a composure 
she was far from feeling. 

At her first official reception, she was 
seated in the centre of the dais or raised 
platform, having her new friend and 
sister Margaret of Yalois on her right 
hand, with whom from time to time she 
exchanged a bright smile or a kind word 
while the presentations were going for- 


164 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

ward. The king, by whom she should 
have been supported, was at a distance, 
engaged in an .animated conversation 
with his mistress the Duchess d’Etampes, 
who, in a splendid brocade sparkling 
with jewels, was standing near a win- 
dow, casting at intervals a curious and 
contemptuous glance upon her new sov- 
ereign. 

At length her turn came, and as her 
name was announced by the mistress of 
the household, she advanced to the 
throne with the step and manner of an 
empress. But Eleanora understood her 
position, and indignant at an audacity 
she had not expected even from her, 
instead of presenting her hand when the 
proud duchess knelt before her, she 
turned aside her head, and entering into 
conversation with the queen of Navarre, 
left Madame d’Etampes to retire at her 
leisure. 


THE PALACE HOME. 165 

For a moment she was embarrassed 
at such a position ; but pride came to 
her assistance, and as she rose slowly 
from her knee, she murmured in tones 
that reached the ear of the queen : 

“Ha! is it even so? You disdain to 
give me your hand. It is then to be a 
trial of strength between us, and I ac- 
cept the challenge. Your husband shall 
avenge me.” 

In the society of Margaret when she 
visited the court, and that of her young 
stepsons, to whom she had become at- 
tached in Spain, Eleanora found her only 
comfort ; and withdrawing herself grad- 
ually from the gayety of the court, 
sought consolation, as her predecessor 
Claude had done, in works of benevo- 
lence and piety. Often, as she sat at 
her open casement, she watched with 
swimming eyes the gorgeous litter of the 
proud favorite, with its draperies of pale 


166 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

blue velvet and its train of pages, issu- 
ing from the palace gates with more than 
regal pomp; but not even to Margaret 
did she ever complain of the husband 
for whose sake she had left her native 
country, only to meet at his hands indif- 
ference and neglect. 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 167 


XII. 

'J ' HE yOUNG j^RINCESS OF JJaVARRE. 

When Margaret departed from France, 
leaving the little Jeanne behind her, she 
insisted upon one condition only — that 
the child should not be educated .at the 
court of her uncle. A separate estab- 
lishment was therefore formed for her, 
on a scale suited to her own dignity and 
her position as an adopted daughter of 
the king. 

The place selected for her residence 
was Plessis-les-Tours, the fortress pal- 
ace of Louis XI., where, surrounded by 
bristling defences, hidden pitfalls, and 
iron cages, the jealous despot shut him- 
self up like a spider in the midst of his 
web watching for prey. It was a gloomy 
residence for a child, and not all the 


168 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

magnificence with which Francis had fit- 
ted up and refurnished it, could remove 
from the sensitive mind of the princess 
the dismal ideas with which it was con- 
nected. She listened eagerly to every 
fearful legend relating to the past his- 
tory of the castle, and fancied, when she 
heard the wind wailing as it swept 
through the dense forests which encir- 
cled it, that the moans of the unhappy 
victims who had perished there were 
still echoing from the deep prison- vaults. 

Still, the life of Jeanne d’Albret at 
Plessis was far from being an unhappy 
or dreamy existence. She loved study, 
and even in childhood learned every 
thing with ease and rapidity; and in 
her hours of exercise and play was as 
gay and lighthearted as the birds whose 
morning and evening songs were her 
delight. 

Madame de Silly, baillive of Caen, 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 169 

was nominated by the king chief lady of 
honor and governess to the princess. 
The poet Nicholas de Bourbon received 
the appointment of preceptor, and taught 
the princess languages, belles-lettres, 
and poetry. Francis appointed two 
chaplains to teach his niece her reli- 
gious duties and theology, and these 
were placed under the control of the 
bishop of Magon. She had also a cer- 
tain number of companions of her own 
age, a tirewoman, a master of the horse, 
and many other subordinate dependents. 

For five years all went on prosper- 
ously with Jeanne in her lonely abode 
at Plessis. She made rapid progress in 
learning, and the fearless honesty and 
truthfulness of her character were daily 
developing. She was morally brave 
almost to a fault, for she instantly 
resented all attempts at deception on 
the part of any one ; and the freedom of 
22 


170 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

her remarks to her royal uncle when he 
visited her, terrified her governess and 
preceptor. To her mother Queen Mar- 
garet alone the child always testified 
the respect and submission becoming 
her age and position, yielding in all 
things to her will, and declaring that 
she would sooner die than offend her. 

In 1538, the princess was attacked 
with a violent fever, which so greatly 
exhausted her strength that the physi- 
cians despaired of her recovery. Hap- 
pily, Queen Margaret was then on a 
visit to her brother at St. Germain’s, and 
a messenger was sent for her at once by 
Madame de Silly. Overwhelmed with 
affliction, the fond mother hastened to 
Plessis, and on her arrival had the hap- 
piness of finding the beloved patient 
slowly recovering. The joy of the child 
at seeing her mother once more, brought 
on a return of the fever ; but Margaret 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 171 

never left her, and her maternal cares 
were rewarded by the entire recovery 
of the princess. 

The queen remained at Plessis two 
weeks ; and it was a season of such 
unmixed delight to Jeanne, that she 
begged her physicians not to pronounce 
her convalescent, lest it should prove 
the signal for her mother’s departure. 
In spite, however, of the pleadings of 
her own heart and the wishes of her 
child, Margaret was compelled to leave 
Plessis when the young Jeanne had 
regained her health, as affairs of state 
rendered it necessary for her to return 
to Navarre. 

Before leaving she made arrange- 
ments for the permanent residence at 
the castle of Jeanne’s paternal aunt, Isa- 
bel d’Albret, Viscountess de Rohan, who 
with her two children came to Plessis 
in 1539. The affairs of the viscount 


172 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

were in great disorder, and but for the 
generous offer of Margaret, the family 
must have been without a place of shel- 
ter. One of the daughters, Frangoise 
de Rohan, was adopted by Margaret, 
and enjoyed the advantages denied to 
her own child, of being educated under 
her immediate supervision. 

When Margaret was at the French 
court, the little Frangoise was sent to 
Plessis to visit her mother and cousin, 
and while there often sighed to be 
restored to the gentle guidance of her 
aunt, and to resume her place among 
the high-born damsels whom the queen, 
when at Pau or Nerac, condescended to 
instruct with her own lips. The tem- 
peraments of the cousins were totally 
unlike, that of Jeanne being marked by 
rectitude of principle, courage, and en- 
ergy ; while Frangoise was timid, yield- 
ing, and dependent, willing rather to 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 173 

give up a point even when right, than 
to contest and defend it. The same 
spirit that in after-years made Jeanne 
dAlbret the most illustrious defender 
of the faith in Europe, manifested itself 
in her childhood by a sturdy disregard 
of etiquette or of consequences, where 
the interests of truth were concerned. 
She is even said in some instances to 
have administered chastisement with her 
own hand when her young companions 
exhibited want of courage or self-con- 
trol. However this may be, the young 
heiress was greatly beloved, both by 
her playfellows and instructors, for the 
nobleness and magnanimity of her dis- 
position and the kindness of her heart. 

After the departure of Queen Marga- 
ret from Plessis, the princess sank into 
a state of profound melancholy, from 
which it was impossible to rouse her. 
She resented deeply the enforced sepa- 


174 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

ration from her idolized mother, and no 
reasoning on the part of her uncle could 
remove the feeling. She was now nearly 
twelve, and the native strength of her 
mind, together with the severe study to 
which she had been accustomed, had 
prematurely developed her character. 
From her soul she venerated justice 
and consistency, and no exertion of 
arbitrary power could compel her sub- 
mission. In vain her preceptor invited 
and urged her to return to her studies ; 
in vain Madame de Silly reproved her 
for her repinings, and the impropriety of 
her course toward the king, whose kind 
letters she hardly deigned to answer. In 
reply, she passionately entreated them 
to procure for her permission to rejoin 
her parents at Pau, which she longed to 
do, or else to prevail on Francis to suf- 
fer her to reside at the court of France. 

“Jeanne d’Albret,” says the old his- 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 175 

torian of Bearn, “the heiress of our 
Henry and Margaret, was brought up 
at Plessis, because King Francis feared 
that her father intended to bestow her 
on Philip, son of the emperor. This 
abode proved very wearisome to our 
princess, so that her chamber often 
echoed with her plaints, and the air 
with her sighs, while her tears flowed 
freely. The lustre of her complexion 
(for she was one of the fairest princesses 
of Europe) was marred by the abun- 
dance of her tears ; her hair floated neg- 
ligently on her shoulders ; and her lips 
forgot to smile.” 

In this state of things Francis saw that 
it was no longer desirable to retain her 
at Plessis, but he would not restore her 
to her mother until he had made the 
plan of Henry impossible, by solemnly 
affiancing her to some other prince. 
After long debate and consultation, he 


176 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

finally fixed upon tlie Duke of Cleves, a 
German nobleman, whose sister Anne of 
Cleves was the fourth wife of Henry 
YIII. of England, while another sister, 
Sybilla, had married Frederic, the elec- 
tor of Saxony. The duke was a follower 
of Luther, and for this cause more ac- 
ceptable to Margaret than a prince of 
higher rank who was a Romanist would 
have been ; and more than all, it was 
the will of Francis that this alliance 
should be at once concluded. 

It then became necessary to apprize 
the young princess of the change about 
to take place in her condition. Accord- 
ingly, one day while the court was at 
Amboise, the king commanded a hunt 
along the banks of the Loire, and fol- 
lowed only by a few attendants, separa- 
ted from his train and suddenly appeared 
before the gates of Plessis-les-Tours. He 
was received by Jeanne with transports 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 177 

of joy, for she believed he had come to 
grant her request, and take her with him 
to St. Germain's. Instead of this, she 
was informed that her hand having been 
promised to the Duke of Oleves, the 
engagement was to be fulfilled immedi- 
ately ; she was therefore to depart with- 
out delay to join her mother, Queen 
Margaret, at Alengon. 

The pale cheek of the princess man- 
tled with the proud blood of her race as 
she heard this summary disposal of her 
destiny. Unable at first to control her 
emotion, she burst into a flood of tears ; 
but soon recovering her self-possession, 
she approached her uncle, and earnestly 
“besought him that she might not be 
be forced to marry M. de Cleves.” 

Francis could never endure opposition 
to his will, and coldly answering her that 
resistance would be of no avail, he turned 
away from the weeping child, and the 

23 


Margaret. 


178 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

same hour left the castle. Thus deserted, 
nothing was left for her but obedience to 
the royal mandate ; and drying her tears, 
she prepared to bid adieu to the home 
in which so large a portion of her life 
had been spent, and the friends whose 
kindness had made it hitherto so happy. 
At Paris, where she stopped for a few 
days on her way to Alengon, she was 
presented by the king to the bridegroom 
he had selected for her. Duke William 
of Cleves was a brilliant and fascinating 
cavalier, and many bright eyes grew 
brighter at his approach; but child as 
she was, the young princess felt for him 
the strongest repugnance, and behaved 
towards him so haughtily as to incur the 
severe displeasure of the king. Her 
cheek glowed and her lip curled with 
contempt as she witnessed the servility 
of his deportment to the king and his 
favorite Montmorency ; and when re- 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 179 

proved by her governess for her cold- 
ness of manner, she replied carelessly : 

<£ I cannot look upon it as an advan- 
tage to leave France and my own heri- 
tage of Bearn and Navarre, to marry a 
duke of Cleves.” 

When Jeanne reached Alen^on, her 
royal mother, whose course had been dic- 
tated by Francis, questioned her strictly, 
expostulating with her on her rebellious 
opposition, to his will. Jeanne listened 
respectfully, and replied calmly : 

“It is true, dear madame, that I did 
take the liberty of speaking frankly to 
the king, for I have always been in the 
habit of saying what I thought or wished 
to him, without reproof or liinderance. 
Should I do less, when the happiness of 
my whole life is at stake?” 

Margaret was well aware of her broth- 
er’s want of confidence in the fidelity of 
his brother-in-law, and anxious to offer 


180 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

some apology for her daughter, she wrote 
the following letter to Francis: 

“Monseigneur, in my present embar- 
rassment I find one consolation, which 
is, the knowledge that neither the king 
of Navarre nor myself have any other 
desire than to obey you, not only in the 
matter of this marriage, but in all that 
you command us. 

“Having heard that my daughter, not 
properly appreciating the honor of your 
visit, nor the obedience she owes to you, 
nor that a maiden of her years should 
have no will of her own, was bold enough 
to utter the request that the marriage 
might not take place, I know not what 
to say, and am overwhelmed with grief 
for the same. Whence this contumacy 
on her part arose, I know not, for she 
has not mentioned such a design to me, 
by word or letter. If I could discover 
the person who has inspired her with 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAYARRE. 181 

the absurd idea of resisting your will, I 
would make such a demonstration of my 
displeasure as would convince you, mon- 
seigneur, that in this affair the foolish 
child has acted without the sanction or 
approval of her parents. 

“Knowing, therefore, that it is your 
custom more to pardon errors than to 
punish them, especially when, as in the 
case of my poor daughter, the under- 
standing rather than the heart is in 
fault, I entreat you humbly, that as this 
is her first fault towards yourself, you 
will not withdraw from her that paternal 
favor you have ever manifested to her.” 

For the first time Jeanne was deaf to 
the entreaties and arguments of her be- 
loved mother. She declared vehemently 
that she .should die if this detestable 
project was persisted in, and that she 
preferred death to such an alliance. 
Meanwhile, the messenger sent by Mar- 


182 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

garet to France with her letter to 
Francis, returned, bringing a positive 
command that the betrothal should take 
place at once ; and that the princess and 
her mother should then proceed to Cha- 
tellerault that the marriage might be 
immediately solemnized. Finding that 
resistance would avail nothing, this girl 
of twelve adopted the singular expe- 
dient of drawing up a formal protest 
against her compulsory marriage, ob- 
taining the signatures of three officers 
of her household to witness the, docu- 
ment. 

The ceremony of betrothal took place 
in the great hall of the castle of Alengon, 
the bishop of Seez officiating. Though 
evidently annoyed and distressed, the 
princess was calm, and without a mur- 
mur prepared to accompany her mother 
to Chatellerault, where the marriage 
was to take place. Before leaving Alen- 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 183 

9011 , however, she drew up a second 
memorial, which was signed by the same 
persons who witnessed the first protest. 
These documents were afterwards of 
great importance to her. 

Jeanne was received by her uncle 
with entire cordiality on her arrival at 
Chatellerault, where the most sumptu- 
ous preparations for the nuptials were 
in progress. The marriage ceremony 
was performed on the 15th of July, 1540. 
The youthful bride was dressed in a 
robe of cloth of gold covered with jew- 
els of immense value. A ducal coronet, 
set with the richest gems, encircled her 
brow, and the train of her velvet mantle 
was bordered with ermine. The profu- 
sion and display on this occasion were 
so great, that the coronation of Charles 
Y. cost less than this royal pageant, 
in which Jeanne bore so reluctant a 
part. 


184 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

Resolute to the last, the young prin- 
cess, when her uncle presented himself 
to lead her to the altar, half rose from 
her chair, then resuming it, declared 
herself unable to walk, from the weight 
of the gold and jewels with which her 
robe was adorned. Greatly annoyed, 
the king looked hastily round the bril- 
liant circle, then summoning the consta- 
ble Montmorency to his side, he com- 
manded him to take the princess in his 
arms and carry her to the chapel. This 
was done, and the ceremony went for- 
ward; after which a banquet and ball 
followed, at which Jeanne was com- 
pelled to be present, by the express 
command of the king. After a while she 
was permitted to retire to her mother’s 
apartments, where, in fulfilment of a 
previous promise, the Duke of Cleves 
solemnly committed his youthful bride 
to the care of Margaret for three years, 


YOUNG PRINCESS OF NAVARRE. 185 

engaging in that time neither to see nor 
claim her. He then departed from the 
court, while the princess, gladly taking 
leave of her uncle, accompanied her 
parents to the castle of Nerac, whence 
they proceeded to spend the winter in 
Pau. 


24 


186 


MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 


XIII. 

]Life at the.J^astle of J^au. 

And now, for the first time since her 
infancy, Jeanne d’Albret was domesti- 
cated with the mother she loved and 
venerated, and her happiness was so 
intense, that she almost forgot the price 
at which it had been purchased. Her 
health returned, her spirits rose, her lip 
was wreathed in smiles, and she was 
once more the gay, light-hearted child 
who sported in the gardens of Louray. 
Mounted on a shaggy Aragonese pony, 
and attended only by one old servant, 
she took long rides among the moun- 
tains, visiting the cottages of the peas- 
antry, and listening with ever fresh de- 
light to their stories of the goodness of 
her mother Queen Margaret. When 


LIFE AT PAU. 


187 


study hours were over, she sang and 
played on the spinnet, or walked with 
her young associates, eager to explore 
the charming country, which differed so 
widely from her former residence in 
France. 

But the happiest seasons she ever 
knew were those spent by the princess 
in the private apartments of Queen Mar- 
garet, when, seated at her feet, she could 
gaze unchecked on that sweet face, and 
listen to the words of wisdom that flowed 
from those beloved lips. The vehemence 
of her character became insensibly soft- 
ened under such an influence, and her 
education advanced rapidly, though 
rather from association with the learned 
men of the court than the study of books, 
for her lively temperament rendered 
constant application irksome to her. 

Jeanne had been trained up in the 
bosom of the Romish church, and when 


188 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

slie went to B6arn, was strongly preju- 
diced against the Lutheran faith, princi- 
pally, as she herself tells us, because she 
thought the reformed preachers wanting 
in gratitude towards their illustrious pa- 
troness the queen. But the silent influ- 
ence of Margaret’s example, the loveli- 
ness of her life and character, and the 
words, “ fitly spoken,” dropped by her 
from time to time when alone with her 
daughter — all these were operating on 
the mind and heart of the young girl, 
who had always been fearless in follow- 
ing out her convictions of truth. She 
had from childhood been in the habit of 
probing the motives of those about her, 
and of penetrating to the origin of every- 
thing that claimed to be truth, and this 
rendered her liable to be impressed by 
the doctrines of reform. Her spirit of 
inquiry was not checked in its search 
after truth by Lefevre and Farel, as it 


LIFE AT PAU. 


189 


had been at Plessis, nor was she arrest- 
ed by the fearful barrier so often op- 
posed to her reasonings by the bishop 
of Ma§on — the authority of the holy 
church. 

Every day she studied the Scriptures 
under the guidance of her mother and of 
Gerard Boussel, bishop of Oleron, almo- 
ner to the queen, a prelate of rare intel- 
ligence and devoted piety. One circum- 
stance alone checked the progress of 
Jeanne and made the new faith distaste- 
ful to her. The Duke of Cleves, her be- 
trothed husband, was a Lutheran, and 
any thing which seemed to strengthen 
the hated bond between them became at 
once repugnant to the princess. Nev- 
ertheless the lessons she heard from the 
eloquent lips of her mother and from the 
teachers left upon her mind an indelible 
impression, and in the coming years 
brought forth a plentiful harvest, 


190 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

The time was now at hand when, ac- 
cording to the contract, the Duke of 
Cleves was to claim his bride ; but his 
political fortunes had greatly changed, 
and he was now in no situation to re- 
ceive her. The emperor had been great- 
ly displeased with his vassal for daring 
to ally himself with the heiress of Na- 
varre ; and at the head of an army of 
forty thousand infantry and eight thou- 
sand horse invaded the duchy of Cleves, 
and overrunning it, took all the strong- 
est towns and castles before the duke 
was aware of his danger. The conquest 
was complete. The Duke of Cleves was 
compelled to humble himself before his 
haughty suzerain and accept the most 
humiliating conditions, giving up the 
fairest portions of his dominions. A 
vassal thus stripped and spoiled was not 
likely to claim the hand of a princess 
who brought him a crown as her dowry. 


LIFE AT PAU. 


191 


Meanwhile the French king, ignorant 
of the state of affairs, had written to 
Margaret, commanding her to send on 
Jeanne without delay to Luxembourg, 
whence he would himself escort her to 
her husband at Aix. The despair of 
the princess on hearing this intelligence 
was overwhelming. She protested with 
tears that she should die if forced to obey 
the summons of her uncle, and entreated 
her parents to save her from exile and 
from a destiny which she shuddered even 
to contemplate. Margaret wept with her 
child ; but though her heart was torn 
with anguish, she had never yet dispu- 
ted the will of her brother, and would 
not, though it had led her to the scaffold 
or the stake. 

After a farewell which was agonizing 
to both, the mother and daughter parted, 
and the latter set forth, in company with 
her father, for her new home. When the 


192 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

royal travellers reached the city of Sois- 
sons, they remained there for one night 
to recruit the strength of the princess, 
who was overcome with fatigue and sor- 
row. A. t midnight a messenger came 
from the camp, bearing despatches from 
Francis to the Cardinal du Bella}", in 
which the king directed his niece to 
return and take up her abode with his 
queen Eleanora at Fontainebleau until 
he could decide on the course to be 
taken under the circumstances. 

The joy of the princess at this unhoped- 
for escape was intense, and her father 
shared the satisfaction she felt, for the 
alliance had been distasteful to him in 
every point of view. He hastened to 
conduct his daughter from the frontier, 
fearful even yet lest some sudden change 
might render it necessary to give her up. 
When Margaret heard of the humbling 
concessions made by the Duke of Cleves 


LIFE AT PAD . 


193 


to Charles, her indignation was extreme, 
and she wrote the king, cordially assent- 
ing to his wish of annulling the marriage. 

“Monseigneur/’ she wrote, "I would 
rather see my daughter in her grave, 
than know her to be in the power of a 
man who has deceived us all, and in- 
flicted so foul a stain on his own honor.” 

Now, for the first time, the princess 
was suffered to state her objections to 
the alliance, and the protests, formerly 
disregarded, became important state doc- 
uments. Application was made to the 
pope at Rome for a bull annulling the 
marriage, on the ground of the violence 
done to the wishes of the princess through 
the whole affair. Her protests were for- 
warded to Rome, to which a third was 
added, and after a tedious delay, the ill- 
omened bond was broken, and the par- 
ties declared free to contract marriage 
with other individuals. 


Margaret. 


25 


194 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

Freed from the shackles she had worn 
so long, Jeanne returned to the court of 
her mother in a very different state of 
mind from that in which she had quitted 
it. “The countenance of our fair prin- 
cess,’ 7 says the historian Olhagaray, 
“grew serene again, her deportment 
became cheerful, and she was once more 
the life of the company at the castle, for 
it had seemed very grievous to her to 
quit her parents and country to become 
the wife of a simple duke, when she 
might choose among the greatest princes 
of the blood royal. In fact, the emperor 
greatly desired her for his son Philip, 
and would have bestowed many advan- 
tages on our King Henry, who refused 
an alliance so hurtful to the crown of 
France, nor would he have it believed 
he ever desired such an event.” 

For two years after the dissolution of 
her marriage, Jeanne resided with her 


LIFE AT PAU. 


195 


mother at Bearn, though both Margaret 
and her daughter made frequent visits 
to the French court at St. Germain’s and 
at Paris. As the king’s health declined, 
he became more dependent on the soci- 
ety of his sister, his “ other self,” as he 
often called her, and no sacrifice was 
considered by her too great, if it added 
in any degree to his enjoyment. She 
had but recently left him, and was stay- 
ing a few days at the nunnery of Tussou 
in Angoumois, when tidings reached her 
announcing his death. She was alone, 
having left her daughter at Plessis les 
Tours, while her husband King Henry 
was at Mont de Marsan, where he was 
soon joined by the princess, and together 
they held their mourning state for the 
late king during a month. 

The new king, Henry II., had always 
loved and respected his aunt the queen 
of Navarre, and immediately on his ac- 


196 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

cession invited her to court ; but she was 
too much depressed in spirits to obey 
the summons, and during the short re- 
mainder of her life shunned the world, 
devoting herself to the care of her sub- 
jects, to prayer, and works of charity. 
Her influence over her royal nephew, 
which to the time of her death was undi- 
minished, was always exerted in behalf 
of justice and mercy. And Henry was 
often heard to say to those around him, 

“ If it were not for my aunt Margaret, 
I should doubt the existence of such a 
thing as genuine goodness on the earth, 
but never have I been disappointed in 
her.” 

For the first few months of the mar- 
riage, the princess Jeanne was permit- 
ted to remain in Bearn with Margaret, 
whose health was such as to excite the 
alarm of her friends. But the heiress 
of that fair southern heritage was a per- 


LIFE AT PAU. 


197 


sonage of too much political importance 
to be overlooked or forgotten. The em- 
peror was still bent on securing her hand 
for his son ; and in a will dictated by 
him in Augsburg in 1548, he exhorts 
Philip to obtain, if possible, the heiress 
of Albret, “who is a princess of firm 
health, of admirable character, virtuous 
and good, and of heart worthy of her 
birth.” 

The French court, fearful this event 
might take place if Jeanne were left 
longer under the care of her father, who 
had always desired it, sent a mandate 
to Pau requiring the presence of the 
princess at Fontainebleau. The sum- 
mons could not be disobeyed, and taking 
a tender leave of her mother, she de- 
parted from Bearn, accompanied by 
King Henry, who was to escort her to 
Paris. 

Jeanne dAlbret had nearly completed 


198 MAEGAEET OF NAYAEEE. 

her twentieth year when she took her 
place at court as a star of the first mag- 
nitude. She had not the beauty or grace 
of her mother, but the expression of her 
countenance was charming ; her large 
brown eyes were full of brilliancy and 
feeling, her manner lively and unaffect- 
ed, and her demeanor noble and digni- 
fied. Her readiness and quick wit, and 
the frankness of her temper, made her 
the favorite of the court circle, and es- 
pecially of her royal kinsman Henry II. 
For the young queen, Catharine de Me- 
dici, Jeanne felt an aversion she could 
not conquer, for with her innate love of 
truth she read the falsehood of the wily 
Italian ; and her dislike was returned 
with interest, proving in after years the 
source of innumerable trials and misfor- 
tunes to the queen of Navarre. 

The household of the princess in Paris 
was established on a scale of the most 


LIFE AT PAU. 


199 


lavish magnificence, and Queen Margaret 
often thought it necessary to admonish 
her daughter to be less profuse in her 
expenditure. 

Like her mother and uncle, however, 
Jeanne knew not how to refuse a sup- 
pliant ; and liberally supplied as she 
was, her treasury was frequently empty. 
Some of her pathetic appeals to her 
chancellor on these occasions, in favor 
of a deserving protegee, are still pre- 
served, and are written in a manner so 
characteristic that they deserve to rank 
among the curiosities of literature. 

When it became known at the French 
court that the hand of the princess of 
Navarre was again free, there were 
many claimants for her favor, among 
whom Antoine Duke de Yendome, and 
Francis Duke of Guise, were the most 
prominent. King Henry wished to be- 
stow her upon one of the princes of the 


200 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

blood royal of France, in order that her 
rich inheritance might not pass away 
from the crown, and he therefore fa- 
vored the suit of the Duke de Yendome, 
who was of the house of Bourbon, and 
elder brother of Conde, whose son be- 
came the great Huguenot leader in the 
reign of Jeanne queen of Navarre. The 
duke was of the same age as the prin- 
cess, and one of the handsomest and 
most captivating men of the court. But 
he was frivolous and vacillating, a luxu- 
rious, effeminate prince, devoid of fixed 
principle, always becoming the tool or 
victim of stronger minds, while he be- 
lieved himself immovable as the law of 
the Medes and Persians. 

As a soldier his reputation stood high, 
and he had served the king bravely in 
several pitched battles, but his love of 
ease and the caprice of his disposition 
prevented him from attaining high mili- 


LIFE AT PAU. 


201 


tary rank. But lie was of noble pres- 
ence, graceful in manner, fastidious in 
bis attire, and deemed a model of ele- 
gance by all the titled dames of the 
court. 

On the arrival of Jeanne at the French 
court, Antoine de Bourbon sought an im- 
mediate introduction, and was charmed 
with the animation and joyous spirits of 
the fair heiress. It is often said that 
those persons whose characters contrast 
most strongly, assimilate the most read- 
ily ; and it is certain that the daughter 
of Margaret, with her serious temper, 
her commanding intellect, and love of 
truth, returned the admiration of the 
duke, and soon gave him the most deci- 
ded encouragement. Antoine may have 
had no intention to deceive, but the 
strength and dignity of Jeanne’s char- 
acter naturally drew out all that was 

best and noblest in his own, and in re- 
26 


202 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

sponding to her elevated sentiments he 
came to imagine them really the prompt- 
ings of his own heart. Certain it is that 
the princess knew little of the true char- 
acter of the man she had chosen until 
years of married life revealed it to her ; 
but whatever her disappointment may 
have been, it was borne in silence, and 
no mortal ear ever heard her complain. 


“TIIE END OF EARTH.” 


203 


XIV. 

“JhE pND OF jpARTH." 

The consent of the French king was 
easily obtained to the proposed alliance, 
for he was anxious to see his fair cousin 
happily settled. But on the part of the 
king and queen of Navarre, unexpected 
obstacles arose. Margaret, who under- 
stood the character of the duke, feared 
for the future happiness of her child ; 
and her fears were prophetic : while 
King Henry, who was secretly unwil- 
ling to relinquish the prospect of the 
Spanish alliance, thought it beneath his 
gifted Jeanne to bestow her hand even 
upon a prince of the blood royal unless 
he had a crown to bestow. 

But the French king was resolved to 


204 MAEGAEET OF NAYAEEE 

bring the matter to a speedy conclusion, 
and summoned Henry and Margaret to 
Paris, in order that the marriage might 
take place without delay. At that time 
the Duke de Yendome was strongly in- 
clined towards the doctrines of the re- 
formed church, and this circumstance 
doubtless had an influence on the mind 
of Margaret, the ardent friend and pa- 
troness of the reformers. She received 
her intended son-in-law with the cour- 
tesy and grace peculiar to her; and in 
the last state ceremonial at which she 
was present, the duke rode by the side 
of the litter in which Jeanne and her 
mother sat, and the attention he receiv- 
ed from Margaret was remarked by all 
the spectators. 

The favor of the king of Navarre was 
purchased by a pension of fifteen thou- 
sand livres and a promise of aid to re- 
cover his kingdom of Navarre, and the 


“THE END OF EARTH. ’ 205 

marriage contract between Jeanne d’Al- 
bret and Antoine de Bourbon was signed 
at Moulins, in 1548, in the presence of 
the whole court. 

It was stipulated on the part of the 
parents of the bride that in case of chil- 
dren being born to the youthful pair, 
their eldest son should succeed to the 
heritage of both parents, and that he 
should bear the arms of France and Na- 
varre. In case of widowhood, Jeanne 
was declared sole guardian and tutoress 
of her children. 

Besides this, as if a dark foreshadow- 
ing of the future was visible to the queen 
of Navarre, she caused an article to be 
inserted expressly stating that Jeanne 
was to be responsible to no one for the 
education and nurture she might choose 
to bestow on her children, and that until 
her son should attain his majority he 
was to be subject alone to her control. 


206 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

The contract was witnessed by three 
public notaries, and signed by three 
secretaries of state. 

After the marriage ceremony, the 
Duke and Duchess de Yendome left the 
court and proceeded to Pau, that J eanne 
might receive the homage of her states 
of B6arn and the formal recognition of 
her rights as heiress to the crown. 

The people came in crowds to wel- 
come their princess and her husband, 
whose religious sympathies were hailed 
with rapture by the Bearnois. The 
duke, with his usual tact, saw that the 
loyal people of Bearn had two ruling 
passions — love for their good Queen 
Margaret, and attachment to the reli- 
gion she had introduced among them. 
To Queen Margaret, therefore, and her 
Lutheran ministers, he paid the most 
devoted homage, and in consequence 
won golden opinions from all classes in 


“THE END OF EARTH.’ 2u7 

the principality. His young duchess, 
too honest and truthful to feign an in- 
terest she did not then feel, continued 
to uphold the prelates of the Bomish 
church, though she treated the reformed 
preachers with the courtesy and kind- 
ness due to the friends of her illustrious 
mother. Her belief in the papacy had 
been shaken during her residence in 
Bearn, but she was not yet prepared to 
throw off her allegiance to Borne, and 
no motives of interest could induce her 
to feign what she did not feel. With 
the duke it was very different. Policy 
was to him in the place of principle; 
and as self-interest was through life his 
creed, he perceived the advantage to be 
derived from avowing himself a Luthe- 
ran ; nor was he disappointed. The 
name of Antoine de Bourbon was asso- 
ciated with that of his wife in the for- 
mula of recognition by which the states 


208 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

acknowledged the successors of their 
present king and queen. 

The last gleam of earthly sunshine 
which lighted up the pathway of the 
queen of Navarre faded away when her 
cherished daughter left Pau for her hus- 
band’s castle of La Ferte in Yendome. 
Her health had been steadily failing 
ever since the death of Francis, and it 
seemed as though the mysterious tie 
that united the Yalois brother and sis- 
ter rendered it impossible for her to 
live after his departure. For a brief 
season indeed her sinking energies were 
rekindled by the dangers which threat- 
ened her kingdom • for the emperor, irri- 
tated by the marriage of Jeanne, for- 
mally annexed Navarre to Spain, and 
made preparations for the invasion of 
Bearn. On hearing this news, Margaret 
was her own noble self once more. She 
urged her husband to action, made large 


“THE END OF EARTH.” 209 

levies of troops, and strengthened the 
fortifications of Bayonne and Navar- 
reins, two of her strongest towns. Well 
knowing that her presence would do 
more to excite the enthusiasm of her 
people than all other means combined, 
she left Pau, feeble as she was, for a 
progress through her dominions. As 
she was about to enter the litter in wait- 
ing for her at the gates of the castle, she 
turned to the Countess Fiesque, on whose 
arm she leaned, and said, with a sweet 
though sad smile : 

“I am about to leave this beloved 
house for ever, for my eyes will never 
behold it again. But I am not uneasy, 
for I have long tried to acquaint myself 
with my better and enduring home, and 
have no fear of being turned out of doors 
when this brief life is over. God, I am 
well assured, will carry forward the 
work he has permitted me to commence, 

27 


Margaret. 


210 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

and my place will be more than filled by 
my daughter, who lias the energy and 
moral courage in which, I fear, I have 
been deficient. The good seed has been 
sown in her heart, and will certainly 
spring up and bear abundant fruit. ” 

The words of Margaret were prophet- 
ic; for of all the noble army of confes- 
sors raised up by God in that age to 
bear witness to his truth, Jeanne d’Al- 
bret, queen of Navarre, was one of the 
most fearless and illustrious. 

Margaret had only reached the castle 
of Odos in Bigorre, when she became 
unable to proceed farther ; and before 
her terrified attendants had time to sum- 
mon the king or the Duchess de Yen- 
dome, she breathed her last in the midst 
of her weeping train, on the 21st of De- 
cember, 1548, in less than two years 
after the death of the king of France. 

It is impossible to describe the dis- 


“THE END OF EAKTH. ’ 211 

tress and consternation with which the 
whole kingdom was filled on learning 
this sad intelligence. The Bearnois had 
never associated the idea of death with 
that of their gracious and beautiful queen, 
on whom they had learned to depend as 
a kind of external providence, given 
them by God himself to teach them the 
way to his throne. Now she had left 
them, and that too at a time when their 
need was greatest. Had Charles fol- 
lowed up his advantage in the first mo- 
ment of national sorrow, he would have 
found Bearn an easy prey ; but this little 
corner of France was yet to prove the 
cradle of the French reformation, and 
escaped for this time as a bird from the 
snare of the fowler. 

The loss of her admirable mother was 
deeply felt by the Duchess de Yendome, 
and years afterwards she was accus- 
tomed to speak of it as one of the great- 


212 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

est calamities of her life. It was not 
only her own loss of the affection and 
guidance of her beloved mother that she 
mourned ; the queen of Navarre pos- 
sessed more influence over the wayward 
duke than any other person, and alone 
had power to check his visionary proj- 
ects. Her gentle firmness and winning 
courtesy, th e prestige of her great name 
tli rough out the kingdom, and her influ- 
ence at the French court, all combined 
to impress the weak mind of Antoine and 
to command his deference and respect. 
Her father too, the king of Navarre, de- 
prived of his guiding-star, gave up the 
reins of power into the hands of his 
daughter, and sank into a kind of imbe- 
cility, which rendered him only the 
shadow of a king. 

Henry d’Albret had never been more 
than half-hearted in his acceptance -of 
the doctrines of the reformation, and but 


“THE END OF EAKTH.” 213 

for Margaret’s personal influence, would 
long since have given them a summary 
dismissal from his thoughts and his do- 
minions. Now that he had lost all that 
gave brightness and interest to his life, 
he was unwilling to do violence to her 
memory by a change of religion which 
involved so much ; and shutting himself 
up in his palace, gladly left to his daugh- 
ter, the energetic young duchess of Yen- 
dome, the exclusive management of both 
church and state. 

“Do as you please,” he said to her 
once in answer to some inquiry; “I 
leave it all in your hands, only make 
sure that your mother the queen would 
have approved your measures. Should 
I ever have a grandson, I shall claim 
the right of directing his education after 
my own ideas; in aught else you are 
fre£ to act as you list.” 

These words of the king were not for- 


214 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

gotten; and when Jeanne’s son, after- 
wards the great Henri Quatre, was born, 
his grandfather claimed the entire con- 
trol of the royal infant, educating him 
in the old Bearnois habits of hardihood 
and simplicity, and thus preparing him 
for his glorious career. 


CONCLUSION. 


215 


XV. 

Conclusion, 

Margaret of Valois, “tlie pearl of 
Navarre,” as her brother fondly termed 
her, was no more. In the rich prime of 
her womanhood and in the midst of her 
usefulness, ere yet age had dimmed the 
lustre of her eye or chilled the warm 
affections of her heart, she had gone 
down to the grave amid the tears and 
unavailing lamentations of a whole peo- 
ple. 

“By the death of our good queen,” 
says the Bearnois historian, “the nation 
was suddenly orphaned, and a wail like 
that of Rachel weeping for her chil- 
dren was heard through the length and 
breadth of the land.” 


216 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

Ill every dwelling, from the stately 
castles of Pan and Nerac, down to the 
humble chalet of the mountain herds- 
man, hearts were found bowed down 
with sorrow for the common loss, for of 
Margaret it was literally true, 

“None knew her but to love her, 

Nor named her but to praise.” 

Even in the French court, where by 
tacit agreement sorrow and death were 
prohibited subjects, there was mourning 
for the queen of Navarre far more real 
than that which had followed the death 
of their proud and splendid monarch. 

“Edward wins provinces, Philippa 
conquers hearts,” was once said of an 
English king and queen, and the saying 
might with equal truth have been ap- 
plied to Margaret and Francis. With 
the exception of the Eomish priesthood, 
who hated her as the firm patroness of 
what they called heresy, the queen of 


CONCLUSION. 


21 ? 


Navarre had no enemies ; for even jeal- 
ousy and envy were subdued by the 
gentleness and uniform kindness that 
marked her demeanor. 

The king of France was wont to say 
that his sister’s generosity was a pre- 
mium on ill-nature and malignity; but 
the assertion was not warranted by fact, 
since some of those who w^ere afterwards 
Margaret’s firmest friends were won over 
by the nobleness which would not take 
or remember an offence. 

But while all ranks and classes were 
united in lamenting the loss they had 
sustained, the clergy of the reformed 
church in Bearn, and the nobles who 
had adopted their faith, had most cause 
for apprehension and sorrow. 

The king was not firmly their friend ; 
the young princess, in whose hands were 
the reins of government, had been edu- 
cated in the bosom of the Catholic church, 

23 


218 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

and as yet had given no indication of a 
change of sentiment ; and though her 
husband the Duke de Vendome made 
flattering professions of attachment to 
their cause, they had already learned 
enough of him to feel little confidence 
in his stability. A powerful enemy was 
beyond the P} T rennees, waiting only for a 
favorable pretext for advancing upon the 
provinces he had so long coveted, and the 
king of France was at best only a luke- 
warm ally, even if the papal influence 
failed to convert him into an active aux- 
iliary of Spain. What was to save the 
infant church from the ruin that seemed 
impending over it? The aged Lefevre 
had gone home to his rest, cherished 
tenderly to the last in the palace of Pau 
by the care of Margaret; but Farel and 
his faithful brother Gerard Eoussel, 
bishop of Oleron, were left to breast the 
storm ; and strong in the Lord as they 


CONCLUSION. 


219 


had proved themselves, they trembled 
for the safety of the ark in this moment 
of peril. 

But He who once said, “Ask of me, 
and I shall give thee the heathen for 
thine inheritance, and the uttermost 
parts of the earth for thy possession,” had 
purposes of mercy towards the Bearnois, 
and saved their little mountain nest from 
the destruction which threatened to over- 
whelm it. The young king of France 
had not yet forgotten his father’s cap- 
tivity and rigorous treatment, nor his 
own forced sojourn in Spain, and it 
seemed to him unnatural and monstrous 
to join the enemy of his house in a cru- 
sade against the dominions of the aunt 
whom he had loved so fondly. Charles 
was not in circumstances to brave the 
power of the French by taking a step 
which they would be certain to resist, 
and therefore his pet project was defer- 


220 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

red, never, as it afterwards proved, to 
be resumed. 

Added to this state policy, there was 
another and even more powerful reason 
why the friends of the reformation were 
enabled to hold the ground they had 
gained in this portion of Navarre. The 
religion of the Bible had taken deep 
root in the hearts of the Bearnois from 
the circumstances of its introduction. 

Until their late queen came to Na- 
varre, the peasantry had been accus- 
tomed to think of their princes as of 
beings so far removed from themselves 
in the scale of humanity, that there could 
be no feeling in common between them 
and the lower classes. They were loyal 
from habit and instinct; but they looked 
on the inhabitants of the palace as they 
did on the stars that glittered above 
their heads, as something quite out of 
their sphere and beyond their compre- 


CONCLUSION. 


221 


hension. Suddenly all this was changed. 
A woman, young and noble, more beau- 
tiful than their imagination of the an- 
gels, came to their cabins without pomp 
or retinue, seated herself between the 
mother and the children, not as a con- 
descending superior, but as a friend ; 
and made herself acquainted with their 
wants and necessities, their joys and sor- 
rows, for the purpose of doing them good. 

At first they could not believe that 
this kind and gentle woman, to whom 
they found themselves speaking freely, 
was the queen about whom they had 
heard so much, and of whom they al- 
ways thought as seated on a throne, 
with a jewelled crown on her head and 
kneeling crowds around her. But as 
they came to know her better, loyalty 
became enthusiasm, and they loved her 
with a devotion that was bounded only 
by their capacity of feeling. They had 


222 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

been trampled under foot, and their 
scanty earnings wrung from them to the 
last farthing by the Romish priesthood ; 
but the “good queen ” told them of Jesus 
and his love for poor sinners, and her 
ministers brought them the tidings of 
salvation without money and without 
price, evidently seeking “not theirs, but 
them.” Was it any wonder that such a 
gospel should be gladly welcomed b}^ 
the poor mountaineers, or that, having 
embraced it, they should resolve to part 
with it only with their lives ? Precious 
beyond all valuation as it was in the 
hopes and privileges it bestowed upon 
them, its worth was enhanced by the 
channel through which it had flowed 
into their hearts. In proportion to their 
love and veneration for Margaret, was 
their devotion to the doctrines first 
heard from her lips; and when death 
had sanctified that affection and ren- 


CONCLUSION. 


223 


dered it immortal, the lessons she had 
taught became a part of themselves and 
were dearer than life itself. 

To the Duchess of Yendome, as the 
child of their beloved benefactress, the 
Bearnois at once transferred allegiance ; 
and when she saw how entirely it was 
taken for granted by these simple peo- 
ple that the faith of the mother was that 
of the daughter, Jeanne could not find it 
in her heart to undeceive them ; so that 
in after-years, when she had become the 
firm and devoted leader of the Hugue- 
not party, her subjects never knew how 
near they had been at one time to that 
which they regarded as the worst of 
evils ; namely, renewed subjection to the 
church of Rome. 

After the death of her beloved mother, 
the princess cultivated more friendly re- 
lations with the reformed pastors, chiefly 
from respect to her memory ; but though 


224 MAEGAEET OF NAYAEEE. 

her intellect was partially convinced, her 
heart was still untouched ; and truthful 
as she was, nothing could have induced 
Jeanne d’Albret to profess a feeling 
which had no existence. Still, while 
herself a member of the Romish commu- 
nion, toleration was enforced throughout 
Navarre, even in those provinces that 
blindly adhered to the see of Rome ; and 
as the Duke of Yendome was nominally 
a Protestant, the infant church grew and 
prospered, gradually leavening the sur- 
rounding states, until its dimensions 
alarmed the pope and his devoted rela- 
tive and adherent, Catharine de Medici, 
now queen of France. Catharine hated 
Jeanne d’Albret, whose character was 
in every respect the reverse of her own, 
and she hated the reformation with all 
the intensity of a blind bigotry ; but it 
was her policy to play off the different 
parties in the kingdom against each 


CONCLUSION. 


225 


other, in order to hold herself the bal- 
ance of power, and she had long since 
learned to wait and bide her time, that 
she might strike the more surely in the 
end. She therefore temporized and 
equivocated, assuring the friends of the 
reformation that they might rely upon 
her kind offices, though her intercourse 
with Rome was constant and confiden- 
tial. 

While things were in this state, Jeanne 
became the happy mother of a son, after- 
wards so renowned as the Huguenot 
leader and monarch of France, Henry 
Fourth. The royal infant was born 
December, 1553, four years after the 
death of Margaret, in the castle of Pau, 
whither the duchess had come at her 
father’s request, that his supervision of 
the child might commence from the first 
hour of its existence. 

The king had little confidence in the 

29 


Margaret. 


226 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

character or principles of his son-in-law ; 
and though his respect for Jeanne was 
unbounded, he ' feared lest a mother’s 
fondness should interfere with his cher- 
ished plans for the education of his 
grandchild, whom he had resolved to 
train up after the ancient fashion of the 
Bearnois. Accordingly, the princely 
boy was sent, almost in infancy, to the 
castle of Courassej where, under the care 
of his tutor, M. de Montfaugon, he was 
early inured to hardships and privations 
of every kind, eating the coarsest food, 
and sleeping on a pallet of straw, while 
he was allowed no control over his 
young companions, save what he ac- 
quired by virtue of his superior skill 
and prowess. At stated periods he 
made visits of ceremony to his mother 
and grandfather at the castle, and as the 
duchess witnessed his rapid growth and 
improvement, she was consoled for a 


CONCLUSION. 


227 


separation which had at first been very 
bitter. But absorbed as she was in the 
cares and anxieties incident to her ex- 
alted station, Jeanne had little leisure 
for the indulgence of the domestic affec- 
tions, even had her lot in life been hap- 
pier than she found it. Her father had 
become increasingly irritable and hard 
to please, and since the death of Marga- 
ret had thrown the whole burden of au- 
thority upon the shoulders of his daugh- 
ter, who, though young and inexperi- 
enced, had managed affairs with so much 
wisdom and discretion that she had won 
the admiration of all, enemies as well as 
friends. Her husband was vain and ca- 
pricious, fond of the semblance of pow- 
er, though shrinking from the- exertion 
necessary to maintain the reality, and 
Jeanne soon found how little dependence 
could be placed on his advice or assist- 
ance in an emergency. 


228 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

Happily for her, Conde, the younger 
brother of the duke, was a man of very 
different stamp, and with him were as- 
sociated other noblemen whose honor 
had never known a stain, and whose 
names were a tower of strength to the 
Huguenot party. Without fully sympa- 
thizing in their religious views, Jeanne 
trusted them implicitly, for they had 
been the tried friends of her revered 
mother, and now rallied round her with 
a zeal and devotion which her noble 
nature well knew how to appreciate. 

When the young Henry had reached 
his ninth year, the famous conference, 
known as the “Colloquy of Poissy,” took 
place, between the Catholics, represent- 
ed by the cardinal of Lorraine, uncle of 
Mary queen of Scots, on one side, and 
Theodore Beza, Peter Martyr, and other 
eminent men, on the part of the refor- 
mers. It was convened by Catharine 


CONCLUSION. 


229 


de Medici, now a widow and regent of 
France, under the pretext of wishing to 
bring together the opposing parties, that 
she might make peace between them, 
but in reality that she might measure 
the strength of her opponents and gain 
time to mature her own plans. The 
pope was at first violently opposed to 
such a conference, for it was contrary to 
the whole policy of the Romish church, 
which claims infallibility and denies the 
right of private judgment, which a pub- 
lic disputation would seem to acknowl- 
edge. He was, however, prevailed upon 
to consent, doubtless by arguments with 
which the treacherous Italian was only 
too familiar, and on the 13th of August, 
1561, the disputants came together at a 
place called Poissy, from which the con- 
ference takes its name. 

After lasting several days, the dispu- 
tation ended, as such discussions usually 


230 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

clo, by leaving eacli party more firmly 
settled in its own belief. One result, 
however, had been attained, the impor- 
tance of which could hardly be overesti- 
mated. Jeanne d’Albret, who had now 
become, by the death of her father, 
queen of Navarre, was present, and 
yielding to the arguments of the refor- 
mers, became a convert to the truth, 
which was ever afterwards dearer to 
her than life. Strange to say, however, 
the process which produced this result 
in the mind of the wife, had an effect 
directly opposite on that of her husband. 
Antoine listened with all the attention 
he could command, and professing him- 
self convinced of his errors, begged per- 
mission to return to the bosom of the 
church, from which he had ignorantly 
and foolishly wandered. This conver- 
sion was a source of great rejoicing to 
Catharine, who well knew the pain it 


CONCLUSION. 231 

would inflict on her hated relative 'the 
queen of Navarre ; and though in 'her 
heart she despised the weak Antoine, 
she treated him with the utmost cordial- 
ity, inviting him to Paris while Jeanne 
returned alone to Navarre, promising 
to recognize his rights as first peer of 
France and governor of Guienne. These 
promises were never fulfilled, but they 
served to cajole the king and detain him 
at court, while his heroic wife was left 
alone to breast the storm which now be- 
gan to lower on the political horizon. 

One solace was left the queen which 
compensated for many sorrows. Her 
young son, now a noble, spirited boy, 
was left to her sole guardianship ; since, 
in spite of Catharine’s remonstrances, 
Antoine refused to burden himself with 
the care of the young Henry, or to re- 
move him from Navarre. It was evi- 
dent that if. the Huguenots wished to 


232 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

maintain their rights, recourse must be 
had to the sword, and Jeanne solemnly 
consecrated her beloved son to the work 
of defending his religion and his country 
from those who sought to destroy both. 
Having once embraced the faith of the 
reformers, no doubts or misgivings were 
suffered to disturb her mind or fetter her 
movements. The Bible, open and un- 
chained, was her counsellor and guide, 
and wherever that led she was prepared 
fearlessty to follows Simple, truthful, 
and ingenuous in character, J eanne d’ Al- 
bret possessed a vigor and strength of 
intellect which enabled her to grasp alike 
the grand outlines and minute details of 
every subject presented to her, and 
which eminently fitted her for the posi- 
tion she occupied as the head of the 
Huguenot party. In prosperity she was 
humble and watchful, in adversity calm 
and undismayed ; trusting God alike in 


CONCLUSION. 


233 


storm and sunshine, with a confidence 
which nothing earthly had power to 
shake. 

The Huguenot party, at the time of 
Jeanne’s accession to the throne, was 
comparatively small and weak, and, hu- 
manly speaking, nothing seemed easier 
than to crush it by the strong hand of 
power. But in defending his church, 
God makes the wrath of man to praise 
him, and restrains the remainder there- 
of ; and in this instance the wily policy 
of Catharine de Medicis was made to 
subserve the purposes of the Most High. 
Two strong passions — religious intoler- 
ance and personal enmity — urged her to 
crush the new religion ere yet it had 
attained a more formidable growth. She 
hated its champions, Coligny, Conde, La 
Noue, and, above all, the qneen of Na- 
varre, with an intensity which could be 
satisfied with nothing short of their de- 

30 


234 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

struction ; but slie was an Italian, and 
could smile while preparing to stab her 
victim to the heart. Moreover, her de- 
votion to the see of Borne inclined her 
to take the severest measures when deal- 
ing with heretics, even in cases where 
she was influenced by no private feeling 
of revenge. 

On the other hand, Catharine’s love 
of power, the master -passion of her 
breast, led her to look with suspicion on 
the vast influence of the house of Guise, 
the members of which were gradually 
usurping a degree of authority both in 
church and state which threatened to 
overshadow that of the monarch of 
France. The Duke of Guise, the idol of 
the people, and his brother the cardinal 
of Lorraine, were loud and fierce in their 
denunciations of the Huguenots, and 
urged the queen regent to proceed 
against them with the utmost rigor. She 


CONCLUSION. 


235 


would gladly have followed this advice, 
so much in unison with her own feelings ; 
but when Coligny, Conde, and the other 
Huguenot chiefs were put down, what 
would be left to balance the power of 
the haughty Guises, which even now 
shook the very foundations of the throne? 
In the present condition of parties in 
France, it was far better to use her ene- 
mies in harassing and weakening each 
other ; and accordingly this was the pol- 
icy to which for many years Catharine 
steadily adhered. When the queen of 
Navarre and her party gained any im- 
portant advantage, the queen -mother 
broke the most solemn treaties without 
scruple, and sent out large armies 
against them ; but when the tide of vic- 
tory was turned, and they seemed about 
to be swallowed up, she was ready to 
come to terms, and to make fair prom- 
ises which were never to be fulfilled. 


236 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

One thing was fixed and settled with 
her — the hated sect must be destroyed, 
root and branch, but not until it could 
be done with entire safety to herself and 
her sons, and for this she was willing to 
watch and wait. Jeanne d’Albret, with 
her accustomed penetration, read the 
plans of Catharine, and in many in- 
stances counteracted them effectually, 
but the struggle taxed every energy of 
mind and body, and broke down a phys- 
ique which seemed formed to last for a 
century. She died at the early age of 
forty- three, in Paris, whither she had 
gone to be present at the marriage of 
her son with Margaret of Valois, Cath- 
arine’s youngest daughter. It was long 
supposed that her death was occasioned 
by poison, the well-known agent of Cath- 
arine in disposing of her enemies ; but 
later testimony renders this improbable, 
as an examination after death revealed 


CONCLUSION. 237 

extensive disease in the stomach and 
lungs, of which the noble sufferer was 
herself aware, though with heroic cour- 
age she concealed it from every human 
eye. 

She was taken from the evil to come, 
for the massacre of St. Bartholomew took 
place only a few weeks after her death, 
that fearful tragedy for which the mar- 
riage and its attendant scenes were only 
a preparation and a cloak. 

We cannot trace here the varied for- 
tunes of Margaret’s grandson through 
the years that followed the death of, his 
mother, till at length he ascended the 
throne of France. It is greatly to be 
deplored that a record so bright as that 
of Henry Quatre should be sullied by 
his abjuration of the reformed faith, 
which took place a few years before his 
death. A Huguenot from early educa- 
tion and intellectual conviction, rather 


238 MARGARET OF NAVARRE. 

than from the assent of the heart to the 
pure and holy doctrines of the Gospel, 
Henry suffered himself to be persuaded 
that the best interests of his kingdom, 
and even of religion, required this step ; 
but though he became outwardly a Ro- 
manist, his most trusted friends and 
counsellors were Huguenots, and he en- 
forced entire freedom of belief through- 
out his dominions. The famous Edict 
of Nantes, issued in his reign, secured 
toleration for all ; and until its revoca- 
tion, towards the close of the next cen- 
tury, the Huguenots had rest and peace, 
and were built up in the faith under 
pastors and teachers of their own selec- 
tion. 

But it was among the hills and val- 
leys of Henry’s native Bearn that the 
reformed faith struck its roots deepest 
and flourished most vigorously ; and 
there the memory of their good 


CONCLUSION. 


289 


queens,” Margaret and Jeanne, were 
tenderly cherished and handed down 
from generation to generation, till the 
last one who had ever looked on the 
face of either had vanished from the 
earth. 

“The memory of the just is blessed.” 


Beautify.!; gorQfe 

FOR CHILDREN AND YOUTH 


AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 150 NASSAIT-STREET, 
NEW YORK, 


Flowers of Spring-time. Combining amusement and 
instruction in most attractive forms. One hundred and 
fifty Engravings. Quarto size. 

Home Scenes. An elegant small quarto for the family, 
with fourteen photographic pictures, fac-similes of fine 
Engravings. 

Yiews from Nature. Forty scenes in nature and art. 
Finely printed in tint. 

Songs for the Little Ones at Home. Attractive as 
ever. Beautifully illustrated. 

Lullabies, Ditties, and TaLs. Original short Poems 
for the Children, Containing Tales, Songs, and Dialogues. 
With eighty-four Engravings. 

Home Pictures. 72 pages. A fine Cut on each page. 
My Picture-book. 64 pages. Sixty-one Engravings. 

Fireside Pictures. 64 pages. With a Cut on each 
page. 

The Illustrated Tract Primer. The Children’s favor- 
ite. Finely Illustrated. 

FOR SALE AT 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK ; 
40 Coenhill, BOSTON ; 1210 Chestnut-street, PHIL- 
ADELPHIA; 75 State-street, ROCHESTER; 163 
Warnut-street, CINCINNATI ; and in other cities and 
principal towns. 


















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